Trollin'
by vi Britannia
Summary: Izaya has been tricked. By a girl, no less. To be blunt: they have been outwitted by the other. Trolls will be trolls. IzayaxOC
1. Chapter 1

**Hellooo there! So I'm new to writing. Not sure why I'm even trying this, but this idea was stuck in my head and I had to try it out.**

**Um disclaimer: Izaya says I don't own Durarara; therefore I do not own him. Ah, the disappointments of inductive reasoning. I hope I did this correctly...**

A handsome young man smirked devilishly at his computer screen, his maroon eyes glinting with amusement as he clacked away at the keyboard. Humans were all the same, especially those pathetic teenage girls. However, it never bored him. In his head, he mimicked their complaints of "_My life isn't worth living_," and "_I don't care what happens_," or his new personal favorite, "_When we die together, everyone will realize what they did to us; they'll regret their actions from the bottom of their black hearts_." Izaya Orihara cackled softly to himself as he read the melodramatic message on the screen from his newest victim, "Suki."

_Suki: It all started last year, when my twin brother was murdered._

_Kanra: Tell me what happened! I'm here for you._

_Suki: Well, my brother was the star-student and an incredible athlete. He was the most popular guy in school, and I was kind of like his shadow, I guess. But I liked it. It gave me protection, but at the same time it gave me access to making friends, which I had a hard time doing without him._

Izaya leaned back in his chair and stretched like a smug cat before spinning several times about in his excitement. He had been exchanging conversation with Suki-chan for the past week, and he was finally getting to the sob story! It was just too much. Next, he grabbed the cup of coffee that was saturated with cream and sugar and imbibed it like an inebriate drunkard. Well, this was his sixth cup, after all.

_Suki: Anyway, one night, he didn't come home from soccer practice. My parents just thought he was out with his friends, or something along those lines. _

_Suki: He didn't come home the next day, or the next. Finally, they got worried and called the police. His body was found, covered in bullet holes. The murderers were never identified, but it's inevitable that he was killed by the gangs in New York. _

_Kanra: That's terrible! I'm so sorry. What did you do?_

_Suki: He was my best friend. I feel completely lost without him. I just want to disappear. My parents decided to move to Japan to get away from New York. They have friends here, and they figured they would feel more comfortable with them. _

_Suki: But ever since my brother's murder, they've ignored me completely. It was my birthday last week, and they didn't even notice._

_Kanra: Well, even though it's very belated, happy birthday, Suki-chan! It's terrible what your parents did to you. (T_T)_

_Suki: Thanks. What about you? Why do you want to disappear, Kanra-chan?_

He was closing in now, like a panther that was about to chomp down on an antelope. Laughing quietly to himself, he ignored Namie's exasperated huffs as he typed a rapid reply.

_Kanra: My parents are forcing me to go to college for law, when all I want to do is act. My father denies everything I would like to do. He forced me to quit the school band and makes me study all night. It's like my parents are trying to live their dream through me, their daughter._

_Suki: I think I understand what you mean._

_Kanra: Maybe I should just listen to them, you know? I mean…._

_Suki: No! They don't care about you at all. I know exactly what we should do._

_Kanra: Do you mean… disappear together?_

_Suki: Exactly. We live in the same city, don't we?_

_Kanra: True… so when do you want to meet up?_

Arisa Kagami snickered as she shut down her laptop. Her meeting with Kanra-chan would be soon enough. Even so, she felt a tiny pang of guilt at how easily Kanra had believed her. Ah, well. This would be good entertainment, anyway. Ikebukuro was far too boring, and she had only been here for three days! It was true, she had moved from New York to live with her uncle. But the rest? The strawberry-blonde made a near-purring sound in her amusement. To be honest, she really didn't want her "online-friend" to go through with the suicide. Maybe she could actually change Kanra's mind. Besides, this was the farthest she had gone yet in her trolling. Back in New York, she had so many enemies that she was pressured to leave by her parents.

Gangs hated the girl that taunted them for her amusement as she zipped by on her way to school. She would sing loudly as she skipped, her voice drifting behind her, "You can't catch me, I'm the gingerbread man!—or woman."

She suddenly frowned as she reminisced. She _never _was caught. Except once. The one time that forced her to leave the city she had grown up in. She involuntarily shuddered as she remembered that night when she was skipping home from track practice. For once, she really had been minding her own business. And then _they_ came….

"Arisa-chan, are you ready for school tomorrow?" her uncle interrupted her thoughts, looking up from his miso soup. His voice held a stern tone, like he knew she would get in trouble before the end of the day.

"You know me too well, ojisan," she sighed, dumping a large ladle of soup into her bowl. It spattered all over the table. She ignored it and sat down.

Uncle Hideki looked concerned as he stared at his niece. He couldn't help but feel worried for her. She was just so… careless. Personally, he blamed her parents. They had let her run around New York alone ever since she was a child. Her mother was British, and had moved from London to America to marry Hideki's brother, Takuma. Alyssa was probably a bad influence on her daughter; she had been very similar growing up in London. However, Alyssa at least had a conscience, probably due to her strict father.

Hideki reached over to curl his hand over her pale one. Arisa froze.

"Please be careful, Risa-chan," he pleaded.

Arisa looked pointedly at his hand, indicating that she did _not_ like to be touched. Then, she sighed, defeated. "All right, _Dad_," she mocked in English.

Hideki chuckled weakly. Since Japanese was not her first language, she frequently switched to English when she wanted to emphasize what she was feeling. Right now, he guessed it was somewhere between annoyance and fondness.

He cringed as she slurped on her soup like an uncivilized cavewoman. He _really _had to get used to her eating quirks.

* * *

><p>"Are you done trolling Ikebukuro for today?" Namie demanded when Izaya had shut down his computer.<p>

"No need to be so angsty, Namie-chan," Izaya informed her lightly, so happy with his recent conversation that he did not even feel a twinge of annoyance at her constant cynicism.

"Shut up, Orihara. You're being paid to keep tabs on my brother and that chit of a girl, not to obsess over your internet friends," she stated imperiously.

The thin black-haired man raised his hands as if in mock defense and replied, "Ah, ah, it's not fair of you to meddle in my affairs, Namie-chan."

Her eyes flashed angrily and she slammed a stack of files down on his desk. "Look through those for any lead on where my brother is if you want to keep your job!" she commanded before striding across the room and slamming the door behind her.

Izaya watched her go, sinister amusement curling his lips into a grin. "Touchy, touchy," he mused quietly to himself. His almost-scarlet eyes strayed to the case where his darling dullahan head waited to be awakened. He picked it up and cradled it, almost lovingly, to his chest.

"Yes, she will be just as amusing as the others," he predicted.

* * *

><p><strong>Ehh I don't know. What do you think? I will probably change the title, eventually. I just couldn't think of anything at the moment.<br>**


	2. Chapter 2

**I'd like to thank those of you who alerted/favorited the first chapter, and I'd like to especially thank shadowxgirlxion, Panasonic6, helpaqueen, blackflames101, omgpink, and TTY7 for reviewing!**

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><p>Chapter 2<p>

Arisa flew down the stairs the following morning, hoping her enthusiasm would pass off as excitement for a new school. Grabbing a lollipop from her secret stash of candy on top of the refrigerator, she quickly unwrapped it and popped it in her mouth. The gratifying rush of sugar convinced her to snatch another handful of candy and dump it into the pocket of her backpack.

"Later, ojisan," she sang, her hand on the door handle.

Her uncle looked up from the newspaper he was reading. "Aren't you going to eat breakfast?"

Arisa frowned at him. "Well, considering that school started more than twenty minutes ago, I don't think there's time for that, do you?"

Her uncle gaped at her, immediately jumping to his feet. He was at her side in seconds, ushering her out the door. "Have a good first day! Don't go looking for trouble," he warned.

The door snapped shut behind her, and a grin fought its way across her lips. School started twenty minutes ago? That was such a lie. Her uncle was really out of it, or he would have realized that his own work began at the same time as Raira. She still had an hour before she even had to be there. Sighing to herself in sinister amusement, Arisa stretched her arms above her head and marched purposefully down the streets of Ikebukuro. She stared unashamedly at the hordes of people whose eyes focused straight ahead, as if they were watching goals that were receding before them. It was just so _funny_.

A pastry shop caught her eye. Her honey brown eyes widened as she regarded the assortment of sweets. As her mouth watered, she did not even notice that her blue raspberry lollipop had fallen out and was now sticking to the sidewalk. Barely sparing it a mournful glance, she threw open the sweet shop's door and marched up to the counter.

A smiling woman greeted her. "Ohayou gozaimasu, dear. What can I get for you today?"

Arisa gave a small, innocent smile before she began to rattle off a long list of items. The lady across the counter frowned in either disapproval or concentration as she hurried to take down the order.

"Would you like a drink with all that? Coffee, perhaps?"

Arisa made a face, scrunching up her nose. "No coffee. Just hot chocolate, please. With four times half the chocolate plus another third."

If there was anything she hated, it was coffee. It was just so bitter whatever you put in it. Unless it was one of McDonald's McCafés, there was no way she would drink it. On the other hand, she found great amusement in confusing people. She watched with innocent round eyes as the woman tried to decipher her last order.

Even though her track coach warned her never to eat sweets, she had never obeyed him. Of course, she _told _him she only ate legumes, fruits, and protein-filled meats. It was just a white lie, anyway. Besides, she was the quickest runner on the team, so he would not dare complain.

Arisa was torn from her thoughts when the door to the shop jingled and a new customer entered. Grabbing a chocolate covered strawberry, she observed him from the corner of the room.

The new customer was a blonde boy dressed in a blue hoodie that covered his school uniform. She frowned; it was the same uniform she was wearing, so she guessed he went to Raira Academy as well. He looked to be around her age, or perhaps a year younger.

She cringed as he ordered a piece of chocolate fudge cake, looking down at the last three slices she had purchased. Don't tell him, don't tell him…. Crap.

The clerk was pointing absent-mindedly in her direction as she explained the cake had just been sold out. The boy put his hands in his hoodie pockets and looked over at her. Arisa smiled sheepishly and put her hands up in a "Who knew?" gesture.

To her surprise—and slight annoyance—the boy simply grinned and ambled over. He took a seat on the wooden chair across from her and placed his chin in his palm as he surveyed her.

"Well, hello there, darling. What brings _you_ to Ikebukuro?" he said _very_ confidently. She noticed he had said this in English, probably not realizing she was wearing his school uniform and, therefore, spoke Japanese.

Arisa made a "tchh" sound in the back of her throat. She licked the rest of the chocolate off of the strawberry before realizing he might take that as an invitation. She swallowed before replying in English, "Just got here a couple days ago."

"A _foreigner!_ If there's anything that puts the icing on the cake for a chick, it's _foreigness_," he said needlessly. Obviously, he knew this already if he had first spoken in English. So he was one of those types, hm? "I'm Kida Masaomi. And you are?"

"Uhh…" she stared at him blankly.

"Don't worry," he said courteously, waving a hand. "Chicks always get tongue-tied when I talk to them. I'm pretty used to it by now."

The way he said it made Arisa want to punch him in the face. But no, she had promised her uncle to not resort to violence like she used to. She would occasionally get in fights, but that was only because the opposing gang members instigated it. She herself had never been a member of a gang, but she had somehow incited the wrath of half the gangs of New York. She honestly had no idea what was so offending about her personality.

All right, so maybe that was a lie, too. And maybe she _had_ provoked the gangs first….

She rudely slurped her hot chocolate, hoping to disgust this amateur Casanova enough to leave. Instead, he reached over and grabbed a piece of her chocolate fudge cake.

As he was pulling it towards him, Arisa threw out a hand and curled her fingers around his wrist. "Just what do you think you're doing?" she barked.

"I knew you'd warm up to me," he said smoothly, twisting his hand so that his fingers were entwined with hers. Arisa scowled and ripped her hand away, absent-mindedly rubbing it on her skirt.

"You stole my cake."

Kida looked at her in an almost fond way. "You're _really _going to eat all of this?" he gestured to the table that was still covered in sweets.

She grunted and decided to let it go this once. "Whatever."

She tried to not cry as she watched Kida eat her last piece of chocolate fudge cake. It was her favorite….

"You know, you still haven't given me your name," Kida goaded, and Arisa smacked a hand down on the table in annoyance. Trying to cover up her outburst, she grabbed some chopsticks and went to grab another chocolate-covered strawberry. Unfortunately, she missed; instead, she stabbed the red fruit, effectively crushing the chocolate and the fruit to mush. She mournfully blinked at it, pondering her situation.

Perhaps a fake name would suffice? He'd find out sooner or later anyway.

"Toyama Junko, but please call me Junkie," she told him, hoping he didn't realize the English meaning of the name. Honestly, she had laughed about it several times on her own. Yes, she was a cruel, cruel person. She looked at the clock on the wall. There were ten minutes left until she had to be at school. "Well, I gotta bounce. It was nice meeting you, Kida!" she told him disrespectfully, totally ignoring the standard honorific and flouncing to the exit. He thought she wasn't Japanese anyway.

"Likewise, Junkie-san!" he hollered, turning around in his chair to watch her go. He completely missed her snort of laughter as the bells and deafening crowd muffled her splutters.

He watched her blonde hair disappear into the crowd before grinning to himself and turning around. He gaped at the assortment of sweets he had to finish. Waste not and you'll want not, eh? The only problem was that school started in a few minutes. Ah, it was totally worth being a few minutes late for this….

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><p>"I'd like to introduce a new student to our class," the old man said in a scratchy voice. Arisa had just sat down in her seat after getting lost when the building was <em>right in front of her<em>. She had purposely ignored Kida's shocked stare as she walked into the classroom, sitting in the back corner beside him. Unfortunately, it was the only remaining seat. "Kagami-san, would you please come to the front and write your name on the board in English and Japanese. Then tell us something about yourself."

Arisa couldn't help but let out a bark of laughter as Kida's mouth dropped open when her name evidently was not Toyama Junkie. She patted his shoulder mockingly before she skipped to the front of the room, popping her cherry lollipop out of her mouth as she wrote the chalky white characters on the black board.

"The name's Kagami Arisa. I like to stuff dead animals and skin roadkill before cooking it for dinner. It's an American tradition, you could say," she said seriously, enjoying the looks of horror that crossed many of the girls' faces. There were some chuckles that indicated that the students did not know if she was sincere or not. Well, they would find out for themselves sooner or later. At least her gruesome statement would keep the inevitable nosy questions at bay for a while.

Taking her seat, she noticed Kida staring at her. "That was a lie, wasn't it?"

"_No_," she quipped sarcastically.

"And you speak Japanese, too?" Kida said weakly. "Your name isn't Toyama Junkie?"

Arisa turned to him, holding out a hand to shake. "Kagami Arisa."

He took it, and she noticed his self-confident manner returning. Rolling her eyes, she turned back to the front.

"Trolling is a art," she murmured to him.

"You mean _an_ art," he returned smugly.

She grinned creepily at him, and he frowned. Laughing to herself, she popped a green apple lollipop in her mouth.

Arisa decided that computer and technology would be her best class by far. She had managed to finish the assignment before the rest of the students; that had left her plenty of time to hack into the school system and message teachers with instructions for a fake meeting tomorrow after school. Beside her, Kida and Mikado were struggling with the difficult programming assignment that she had finished in about ten minutes. Since it was nearing the end of the first semester, the teachers had decided to base her grade on the remaining two weeks; however, she was required to complete two months of school during the holidays. She scowled at that. Therefore, in retaliation to such unfair treatment, she changed the passwords to the school's security system.

She was happily entertaining a chat room of gullible elementary school students with absurd tales of her life as a samurai (honestly, didn't they know the Bushido had died out more than a century ago?) when Kida interrupted with his usual complaints.

"Man, this is _hard_," he whined beside her. "Arisa-saaaaan!"

"What the hell do _you _want?" she demanded rudely, pausing her explanation of the time when she—or he—had killed sixty-seven ninjas when they attacked the home village.

"Who's talking back there?" the teacher suddenly called from the front.

"No one!" Kida responded in reflex, before realizing his mistake. The teacher shook his head at them, muttering "Kida" under his breath.

She exhaled and closed her eyes, leaning her head back and trying to block out the offensive light.

She had met Mikado Ryugamine at lunch when Kida threw an arm around him.

"Risa-san, this is my best friend," he said proudly, grinning as he rubbed Mikado's head in a brotherly gesture.

The black-haired boy bowed politely to the new student. "It's nice to meet you. My name is Ryugamine Mikado."

He seemed like a sweet kid, Arisa decided; or anyway, much better than Kida. "Has anyone ever told you that your name sounds like an air conditioner?" she asked pleasantly.

Mikado looked speechless as she sucked on her lollipop. "Yes, once," he said honestly. "How did you—"

In surprise, Arisa abruptly pulled the lollipop out of her mouth. Really, she had just been pulling his leg. "Huh, I'll have to meet him," she commented.

"Ehh, there are actually a few people you should stay away from in Ikebukuro, Arisa-san," Kida interrupted.

She raised her eyebrows. "Oh? Like who?"

"Well, for one, you should probably steer clear of the Dollars. They're a new color gang, except they don't exactly have a color. Pretty weird, isn't it?"

She stared at him thoughtfully. "A color gang with no color. Maybe it's just me, but something doesn't match up here. What's the point?" she said bluntly. "How am I supposed to stay away if I don't know who's in it?" she pointed to the two students in front of her. "You could be a part of it and I wouldn't even know, now would I?"

Mikado stiffened slightly in what Arisa guessed was defense. Rolling her eyes, she hit him on the shoulder. "I'm only pulling your leg, Mikado," she assured.

He laughed and a stain of red tinted his cheeks as he rubbed his shoulder. Whoops, maybe she had hit him a bit too hard.

Kida watched their exchange with a half-smirk on his face. "You should also never run into Shizuo Heiwajima. He's the tall, blonde bartender you see a lot in central Ikebukuro."

"Why?" she asked, thinking that was a pretty weird combination. A bartender to stay away from?

"Let's just say this. Whenever you see flying vending machines, walk the other way," Mikado said. Kida glared at him like he had stolen his lines.

"Huh," Arisa said skeptically. Honestly, how true could that be? Aha! She was being trolled, wasn't she? She waited for the classic "You just got trolled" line, but their expressions were completely serious. Fine, if they really wanted to keep this going….

She crossed her arms, keeping her incredulity a secret. "Who else?"

"There's also the slasher. He's some terror with red eyes that sneaks up on people in dark alleys and attacks them. He never kills them, though," Kida went on. "Don't go walking late!" he joked, wagging a finger at her. Arisa grabbed it and twisted it around in annoyance, reveling in the "Owww" that escaped the blonde as he wriggled to get away. She almost scoffed at the sheer stupidity of his statement. Did he really expect her to believe that?

"There are also a lot of kidnappings of newcomers to the city. Apparently, the kidnappers believe no one will notice their victims' disappearances," Kida stated, staring intently at her.

She shuffled on her feet; so now they were trying to scare her, hm? Well, at least she was ahead of their game. She internally smiled. She had to give them credit; if she weren't well-informed in the topic of lying, she may have believed their ridiculous tales.

"Then there's… Izaya Orihara," Kida said slowly.

Arisa watched as his eyes lowered to the street below, and he gripped onto the metal net of the fence. Something seemed to go out in his eyes as he watched the cars drive by.

"Izaya Orihara," she repeated, prompting him to continue.

"Yeah, just stay away from him. He's dangerous," was the bodiless response.

"Why?"

"He's an information broker. He thinks of people as his pawns," Kida said. "But he's usually not around; he lives in Shinjuku."

"He's the one who said the same thing about my name," Mikado offered, pink staining his cheeks again when Arisa's calculating eyes moved to his.

Izaya Orihara. What a strange name _he _had.

"_Someone's _a hypocrite," she stated thoughtfully, biting down on her candy.

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><p>Walking out of Raira later that afternoon with Mikado, Kida, and another girl named Anri, Arisa was hoping to make a quick excuse for slipping away. Her meeting with Kanra was in at eight, and she wanted to be at least an hour early.<p>

Anri was a quiet girl with round glasses who was currently the object of affection for Kida _and _Mikado. It was pretty obvious, Arisa mused as she observed their interactions. Well, she supposed Kida was just being his normal self, but Mikado seemed to blush at every brush of the shoulder.

"Hey, do you three want to go get ice cream?" Kida suddenly asked, his hands behind his head in their usual position.

"Sure," Mikado said. "What about you, Anri-san?"

"I—I'd like that, too," she replied softly.

"Arisa-san?" Kida turned to her.

She looked at his hopeful eyes and actually felt bad about her impending negative response. "Kida, I already told you I feel like an old woman when you call me that. It's Risa."

"All right, all right," he said nonchalantly, waving his hand in a similar fashion as that morning. "So how about it, Risa?"

Arisa shifted her backpack and looked up at the clouds that floated by. Fluffy. "Uh… I'm actually meeting someone in a few minutes. Maybe next time?"

"Who? A friend… who's a girl? A _boyfriend_?" he demanded.

Was he _jealous_? Oh please don't say she was now on his list of thirty-eight girls to go out with. Inwardly groaning, she quickly denied it. "No, no, I'm going to pick up my uncle, actually."

Kida shrugged, as if that were okay. "Oh, yeah, that's fine."

"Good-bye, Risa. I hope you like Raira so far," Mikado said politely, bowing in his usual way.

"It was nice meeting you, Risa-san," Anri said sweetly. She really _was_ sweet, wasn't she? Sweet like cake.

"Later, Risa!" Kida waved obnoxiously as he shot ahead.

She saw Mikado and Anri exchange knowing glances, and she internally snickered.

Arisa waved her hand in response, smiling in spite of herself.

Exulting in the cheer of doom that now automatically switched on in her head whenever she was about to troll someone, she skipped down the sidewalk heading toward the hotel they had agreed to meet at. It was time to meet Kanra-chan. She had been looking forward to this all week.

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><p><strong>I apologize if Junkie really is a nickname and I just offended someone! I almost did not add it in fear of that actually happening.<strong>

**I hope the OC is not too annoying. This is the first time I've tried writing a story, so please give me any pointers you may have. Thanks!  
><strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Bonjour, tout le monde! Thank you all for your reviews, favorites, and alerts! Buuut I'd like to recognize those of you who reviewed and made my day great: Nizuna Fujieda, xKanra, Mazgrl98, TTY7, ghostwriterlondon13, The Misadventures of Mikayo, Flaming Eagle, and Chefboy R' Brie!**

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><p>"Just keep thinking about the money you'll receive if you perform this properly," Izaya crooned into the speaker of his sleek, black smart phone 3G. Where would humanity be without him? Oh, right. Nowhere!<p>

He slid his beloved phone shut. Then opened it. Then closed it. Then opened it. Then closed it. He loved that! It was just too much fun. He knew he had been making a wise investment when he paid the extra thirty thousand yen for the GPS, iTunes, internet, and video game apps! A twisted smirk adorned his pale face as he skipped down the sidewalk, holding a plastic bag in one hand and his cell phone in the other. His eyes were now glued to the screen as he aggressively played his newly acquired Plants vs. Zombies.

"Games, love! If only I weren't usually so occupied—"

He stopped in his tracks as a new screen blocked his game. Someone was calling him. In worry of losing the game, he immediately hit ignore. His beautiful plants returned, and he sighed in relief.

"Phew, well that was close," he said to himself, his thumbs expertly navigating the screen and keyboard.

The darkening sky indicated that it was nearing seven o'clock. His rendezvous with Suki-chan was a mere hour away and he _still_ wasn't ready! He simply had to be the first one on the rooftop. Otherwise, he would not be able to observe the boring girl from his favorite perch. He could not _wait _to see her expression when he told her that _he_ had hired those thugs to kidnap her.

"Classic deer in headlights," he hummed gleefully as he dropped poison seedlings onto the zombies below.

Izaya scowled when he was interrupted _again_. Couldn't they take a hint? Sighing in what sounded like contentment but was, in fact, exasperation, he pressed the receive button.

"I like sushi!" he exclaimed when he had brought the communication device to his ear.

"Listen, boss, there's no one here who matches your description," came the harried reply. "Single girl, about five foot three, dark hair and blue eyes—she's not anywhere."

Well, that was… unexpected. He had even researched Suki Arisawa and had found details of her appearance. There was no _way_ was he being stood up.

"Hmm? Is that so? If you can't look more carefully, I'd suggest that you approach any girl alone and ask for her name. You wouldn't want to disappoint your employer, now, would you?" Izaya queried lightly, a sinister lilt edging his last words.

"N-no, sir!" was the anxious reply.

"That's good to know," he said happily. "Then I expect all to go as planned!"

He ended the call just as the thug was replying. Distracted, he stopped playing Plants vs. Zombies. Izaya frowned. This was just… just _disconcerting._ He always got what he wanted; he was _always_ right. Unless Shizu-chan or his sisters were behind it, he never failed.

A sardonic smile made its way across his face. This was but a small glitch in his grand scheme, anyway.

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><p>Arisa looked skyward, feeling a little disappointed with the decaying building. If <em>she <em>wanted to commit suicide from a building, she would have done so from the top of a luxurious structure. Shrugging, she unwrapped a grape lollipop, stuck it through her teeth, and thought, _To each her own_.

She glanced at her phone. It was 7:18 p.m. which meant she had plenty of time to find a satisfactory hiding spot. She politely walked through the hotel lobby, trying to act as if she belonged. When she approached the elevator, she incessantly hit the arrow pointing up, hoping to annoy the receptionist that was currently texting on her pink cell phone. However, she was disappointed when she did not even glance up. How boring!

When she entered the elevator, she noticed that two people were already in there: a father and his young daughter. Arisa delighted herself in watching the father's suspicious expression when she hit the roof button. She leaned against the railing and proceeded to watch the pair through amused eyes; she noticed the man was holding a suitcase with an obnoxious green nametag attached. Then, her eyes widened in mock recognition, and she gasped.

"_Patrick_?" she exclaimed incredulously.

Patrick whipped around in surprise. "Do I know you?"

She put a hand to her heart as if wounded, and took note of his British accent. "Of course! I'm your next-door neighbor's daughter! Don't you remember that Guy Fawkes Day party we attended last year?"

He paused in concentration. "I remember the party, but not you. Are you even English?" he asked doubtfully.

She nodded enthusiastically. "I'm half-English, Pat. I'm kind of surprised you don't remember me, especially after what your son and I did."

His mouth dropped open and he spluttered. "What? I—"

Her eyes went round with innocence. "You mean you don't remember when we exploded those fireworks together? It was totally worth it, even though we were grounded for a month."

The elevator had stopped at floor five, and Patrick took his daughter's hand. He began to hurriedly usher her out, looking worriedly behind him.

"It was nice seeing you again, Patrick! Maybe we'll talk later? Tell Pat Jr. I say hello!" she called as the elevator door shut on his retreating figure.

She grinned facetiously as she watched the numbers go up…seven…eight…nine…ten… Finally. The doors opened and she was staring at a black door that led outside. Opening it quietly, she was hit with a rush of cool night air. She scurried to find a suitable spot. _Perfect_, she thought, gazing at a small, raised platform that had plenty of nooks to hide in. She leapt up to the highest one and eagerly began to watch the ant-like people milling about the city, keeping one eye on the door.

* * *

><p>In a similar fashion to another recent visitor, a crimson-eyed informant stared skyward to the top of the hotel. He was running late, unfortunately. Now was the perfect time to practice his parkour skills, he mused. He leapt up from one balcony to another, much like a hawk flies from tree to tree. His switchblade was stuck in between his teeth as he concentrated on shifting his lithe body toward the roof.<p>

Reaching the top, his eyes calmly swept the area for Suki-chan. The roof was deserted, he realized with satisfaction, and so he jumped up to his normal perch. Whipping out his phone, he saw that he had received a text message.

_We think we've spotted her_, the message read, and he smiled. Everything would go as planned, he thought delightedly. Why had he even worried? He was always one step ahead! Sighing contentedly, he began to observe the happenings in the city below. There were so many things happening and happening and disappearing and lapsing before him! Plants vs. Zombies was nothing compared to the glory of human observation.

He rubbed his cheek against the fluffiness of his black coat, enjoying the tickling, soft sensation. If it weren't for Shizu-chan, he never would have acquired this coat, he cackled to himself. Sometimes the blonde brute came in handy. Even though Izaya could never manage to control Shizuo, he still enjoyed the challenge.

"Ah, Suki-chan, I hope you're enjoying yourself," he murmured contentedly, closing his eyes for several minutes.

"Excuse me, but what are you doing?"

The voice cut through his blanket of peace, and his eyes snapped open. Could she be here already..? His thoughts were cut short when he found himself staring at a girl who looked quite intrigued by what—or whom—she had found. She had a very slight accent, and by her looks, she was at least half European. Her lips were stained a vibrant purple color, probably due to the lollipop she rolled her tongue.

She went on. "I'm really sorry to disappoint you, but you kind of have to leave. I'm meeting someone here in a few minutes, and I wouldn't want to scare her by having some hobo with me. No offense intended," she said smugly, obviously intending offense anyway. This personality reminded him too much of….

Izaya needed this girl to go away. She could jump off the building for all he cared, but he needed to be alone when Suki-chan walked through the door.

* * *

><p>The man stood up, and Arisa realized how tall he actually was. She inwardly gulped as she suddenly noticed his expensive, obviously designer shoes and clothes.<p>

"Listen," he said smoothly and calmly, and she could not help but notice the confident demeanor he seemed to exude. "I could care less if you're meeting someone, so I'm staying right where I am. Now kindly leave and find another rooftop to loiter on." He reached into his pocket and retrieved a switchblade.

She crossed her arms and scoffed. "Are you _threatening _me, hobo-kun? Believe it or not, I'm much faster than you probably think."

He smirked. "Oh, really? Do you want to experiment?"

Arisa watched as he prowled closer to her—too close to comfort. He leaned down, observing her with cruel, calculating eyes. She stared back, until… she noticed the—the—

"MY GOD! When was the last time you your brushed your teeth?" she exclaimed, retching as she leaned back. A hint of surprise crossed the man's face, and he lifted an eyebrow.

"Just after noon," he replied, closing the distance again.

"It smells like coffee. I hate coffee," she replied. "Hey, man, back off."

The man chuckled, and Arisa felt a chill run down her spine. She looked into his eyes and her heart skipped a beat. Red eyes. A terror with red eyes that sneaks up on people and slashes them. He obviously did it with the blade that he held currently in his hand!

She gasped. "You're the slasher, aren't you?" she accused.

Arisa watched in surprise as he leaned his head back and began to laugh. His laugh was filled with cold mirth, and his entire body convulsed with amusement. Why did she feel shaking? She looked down and noticed with some disgust that he was holding onto her waist. She watched him cackle for several moments before sticking her grape lollipop back into her mouth.

He even went so far in his strange outburst of chuckles as to spin about in delight several times before focusing on Arisa once again.

He lowered his head and regarded her unimpressed eyes. "For a teenage human girl, you're _very_ interesting," he told her, inspecting her like she was some sort of scientific specimen.

She took her lollipop out and looked at him weirdly. "You're queer."

Arisa watched in disbelief as this bizarre young man leaned forward, pressing his nose against hers for several moments before he turned his face to lick the lollipop she was still holding in her hand.

She groaned.

"Is that so? Tell me, what's your name, hmm?" he demanded, sliding his hands around her so he was holding her in what could almost be called a lover's embrace.

She shoved the contaminated, half-eaten lollipop into his mouth, enjoying the "_oomph_" he let out when it slid past his lips.

"Toyama Junkie," she said. She realized with a sinking feeling that, unlike Kida, he would not fall for her lie.

A smirk graced his lips once again, and he murmured into her ear, "Now, now, Junkie-chan, we both know that isn't your real name. I _love _humans, so I want to know everything about them! Now, be a good girl and tell me."

Arisa's stomach squirmed as his breath tickled her skin. "What time is it?" she asked randomly.

The man leaned back, gazing at her in surprise. "Well, that's a strange question to ask."

"I'm meeting someone here at eight, hobo-kun, so obviously, I want to know how much time I have left before you need to leave."

"It's eight ten," he told her, and something seemed to dawn on him. Then he smirked _again_. "So… who are you meeting, _Junkie-chan_?" he asked softly, his crafty eyes seeming to harbor a secret in their depths. "I hope it's not a boyfriend, because those blueberry lips wouldn't tempt anyone," he chuckled, tapping a finger over her purple mouth for emphasis.

"F-Y-I, loser, it's grape. Secondly, F-Y-I means _for your information_. Therefore, F-Y-I, it's time for you to leave."

"Sassy, hmm? I like feisty," he purred, a giddy glint illuminating his eyes.

Then something clicked in Arisa's head. Information… fluffy black coat... dangerous and cunning… it all made sense!

She suddenly gripped his wrist and her eyes popped in realization. "_Ohh_, so _you're _Orihara Izaya!" she declared, like she was marveling at a zoo animal.

His smirk faltered slightly before returning in full force to his boyish face. "I'm becoming famous! How exciting. Well, I think I found who I was looking for. It's a shame you won't tell me your name, but we can get to know each other another time!" He began walking away when Arisa's cell phone began to ring.

She patted her pockets, wondering how on Earth she had managed to lose it in the clothes she was wearing. Then she noticed Orihara had stopped walking.

"Yes, hello?" he said jovially into the speaker. Arisa narrowed her eyes and marched toward his back, ready to pummel him to a pulp.

She froze when she recognized her father's voice. "Arisa-chan? Who the hell is this?"

Crap. She snatched the phone away from Orihara and hastily pressed it to her ear.

"Hi Daddy!" she squeaked into the phone, looking anywhere except at the rude man she had just met.

"Who's with you? Why did some man have your phone?" her father was demanding.

"No one; I'm with no one. I dropped it onto the sidewalk and a nice man just picked it up for me. It's a good thing you called just now or I may have lost it!" she responded happily.

She glared at the psychopath who was chuckling about the "nice man" tidbit. She really should have called him out for what he was: a _psycho_.

"All right, Arisa-chan, make sure you get home safely. I miss you, but I think Japan is a better living option for you right now," her father said tiredly.

"I miss you, too, Daddy-O. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Call me later tonight. Bye, honey."

She closed her phone and glared daggers at the stupid jerk that was balancing himself precariously on the edge of the building, his arms out like a bird in flight. It was almost as if he did this for fun. He was like a little six-year-old stuck in a man's body.

"You stole my phone."

He smirked at her and leaned over his perch to rest his hands on her shoulders. "Now, now, Risa-chan, you wouldn't want to hurt the nice man that returned your phone to you, now would you?"

"No, but I want to kill him," she told him bluntly. She cringed at his use of such an intimate honorific; however, she supposed she deserved it for all the times she completely ignored using them.

"Come now, you don't mean that, Risa-chan," he said in a concerned tone, tightening his hand on her shoulder. The silver ring he was wearing felt hard and cool on her skin.

Mustering all her energy, she pushed him away from her, remembering too late that they were on the edge of the building. Orihara stumbled back, the smirk wiped from his face.

Arisa's eyes widened in shock and she tried to grab him. Before he fell over the edge, however, he snatched her waist. She felt a tug behind her navel as she was pulled down with him. In desperation, she grabbed a hold of the brick wall. She looked down ten stories and felt her stomach drop. A queasy feeling settled in the pit of her chest when she realized that if she let go, she would spatter into mush on the pavement.

Oh, god, he was heavy. His arms were wrapped tightly around her waist, and he was… _laughing_?

Why had she not taken Kida up on his offer of ice cream?

"You know, Orihara, I've always wanted to be a psychiatrist," she said through gritted teeth. It was the truth, in fact. "Perhaps you can be my first patient."

This only made him laugh more, causing the strain on her muscles to intensify as she held onto the wall for her dear life. Don't look down, don't look down….

"Is that so, Risa-chan? How would you diagnose me?" he chuckled, crushing her midsection in an embrace.

"Bipolar psychopath with schizophrenic tendencies," she informed him, choking when he clasped her even more tightly. He was so detached from reality; it was almost as if he viewed himself as a god when he talked about humans.

"That sounds about right," he crooned, nuzzling his head into her side and knowing there was nothing she could do about it. "Cute kitty panties, Risa-chan!"

She adorned a cheery expression. "Thanks! When we get out of this _predicament,_ you can have the two other pairs I have at home! They would look _uber _adorable on you."

Orihara burst into another hysterical fit of laughter. "This is incredible!" he announced, and Arisa wondered if he was talking to himself or if he was delusional. Probably both. "She's the most fascinating human I've encountered yet!"

Arisa blanched with exhaustion from the strain of his convulsing body. "You… talk… like… you're… not…human," she wheezed.

She tried heaving herself up by extending her right arm over the wall. If it weren't for this monster that was parasitizing her, she would have been able to do so without a problem.

She inwardly groaned when he started talking again, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"For an aspiring psychiatrist, you sure have some issues of your own to worry about," he stated, as if he were merely commenting on the weather.

"And…" she gasped, heaving her shoulders up some more and laying her hands flat on the top of the wall. She had never been so frustrated in her life! "…Why… is that?"

For once, Orihara was quiet, and she was grateful for the silence as she dragged her shoulders up; finally, her stomach was lying flat on the wall, but her legs were still dangling over the edge. He kept clinging to her, so she reluctantly grabbed hold of his shoulders and tried heaving him up. Grunting with overexertion, she panted as she pulled, wondering how on Earth she had gotten into this mess.

That was when something terrible happened.

A loud—very loud—and ominous _riiip _cut through the night air, and Arisa looked at her left hand to see that it was holding a piece of furry black cloth while her right hand clutched Orihara's hood. Crap. She had just ripped his jacket. According to Kida, he _always wore this jacket. _

She was in so much trouble.

Arisa gulped when she caught sight of Orihara's livid expression. He was not even trying to act calm. In one desperate motion, she pulled the black-haired informant back onto the roof of the building, flinching as more of the expensive black jacket ripped apart. She sat down on the wall, panting.

"You ripped my jacket," he told her quietly.

She stood up and glared at him. "I saved your life, you lily-livered toad. You should at least be grateful for that."

He prowled toward her like a jaguar, and his eyes lit with a predatory glint. "Ah, yes, but you're also the one who put my life in jeopardy, Risa-chan."

Arisa curled her hands into fists. "A simple 'thank you' would suffice, because I am _so_ not taking the blame for this!" She waved her hands in a frenzied motion.

Orihara moved, and she had barely any time to react as she jumped back from the knife that had almost sliced her. She looked up at him, stunned.

"For a girl who aspires to be a psychiatrist, she should probably not persuade someone to commit suicide, correct?" he asked calmly, his normal confident tone securely back in place. He twirled his blade thoughtfully around his fingers.

Arisa choked. "You're Kanra? But… you're not a girl."

Orihara chuckled, sliding a hand through her hair and leaning in to smell her sweet, candied breath.

"To tell the truth, I was surprised, Risa-chan. So surprised, in fact, that I've decided you'll be quite useful to me," he breathed into her gold locks, inhaling the strawberry scent. How very fitting!

"You're not a girl," she said again.

"Neither are you an old Japanese samurai," he laughed breathlessly, hugging her unresponsive body to his chest.

Arisa blinked in shock, before scrambling away. How had he known that?

Orihara moved again, and this time she saw, rather than felt, the dark blood spatter to the ground. She blinked at it in confusion. It was oozing from her arm.

Then, the anger rushed back at her and pounded at her eardrums. "What was that for?" she demanded hotly.

The red-eyed menace grinned at her. "It's only fair… after what you did to my coat. I've never been outwitted, Risa-chan. To be honest, I don't quite like it," Orihara informed her.

Arisa had never felt so defenseless. Why could she not troll him as she easily did with others?

Then she realized something and she let a maniacal grin spread across her face. "Well, you sure didn't let me down, Orihara. This is the most fun I've had since I started that gang war in New York. Thanks for being such excellent entertainment!"

"Tell me something, Risa-chan. Do you feel lucky?" Orihara asked her seriously, poking her cheek.

Arisa batted his arm away and laughed aloud, completely ignoring his nonsensical questions. "You mad, Orihara?" she taunted breathlessly. "You just got trolled!"

Suddenly, a soft voice sounded to their left, interrupting their moment of mixed glee and frustration.

"Excuse me? Are you two waiting for me?"

The pair looked toward the door and saw an exhausted and frightened girl; she was about five foot three and had dark hair and blue eyes.

Orihara smirked and turned back to a startled Arisa, who was staring at the real Suki Arisawa in confusion.

He stretched, releasing a contented sigh. Then, he directed, "I think you can handle this for me, Risa-chan. I'll surrender tonight, but don't count on being so lucky next time!"

Before Arisa could react, he had placed a chaste, mocking kiss on her cheek before he disappeared.

* * *

><p>Izaya sat at his desk, resting his head in his palm. He looked… thoughtful, but in truth, he had never felt so annoyed in his life. However, he was more annoyed with himself than with Risa-chan. How could he have been so careless? Well, <em>had <em>he been careless? Or had Risa-chan simply been more careful? His customary jacket was lying over the black leather sofa, and Izaya mournfully stared at the huge rip in the sleeve and hood.

His troubled thoughts turned to that idiotic girl he had left behind. No, not idiotic; she was extremely clever—she had the same outlook on humanity as he and Shinra. It made more and more sense that she would want to be a psychiatrist, even if she displayed "psychopathic tendencies" herself. He reluctantly admitted to himself that she would have to be added to his "People I cannot control easily" list, along with Shizu-chan, Shinra, Mairu, and Kururi. Izaya placed his hands behind his head. After he had met Risa-chan, it was not hard to realize that she was behind the recent trollings by a Japanese samurai, a Russian circus freak, and an American southern redneck.

Izaya reluctantly gave her credit. She had taken immense precautions when she used Suki as her username. Risa-chan had even looked up this girl and used her information to troll him. When he thought about it, the more remarkable it became.

Then his eyes lowered to the silent keyboard in front of him, and he smirked evilly when he remembered her strawberry scent and candied breath. To be honest, she could pass as Shizu-chan's half-sister, he mused. He cackled as he thought of her blonde hair and honey eyes that resembled Shizuo's immensely. Not to mention, they both suffered from addictions to either cancer or candy sticks.

It was their personalities that differed. If they met, maybe Risa-chan would take out Shizu-chan for him, Izaya thought excitedly. If anyone could drive Shizu-chan insane besides himself, it would be her! Why, in only a month, the blonde brute could be locked away forever, thus leaving Izaya free reign of the entire city! He cackled again when he looked at her new contact in his phone. Started a gang war in New York, had she?

"Jumped-up little troll," he said quietly, pulling up her information that he had only just saved to his desktop. He smirked.

* * *

><p><strong>Jeez, Izaya is difficult to write. He's evil, but at the same time hilarious.<strong>

**Until next weekend!  
><strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**I'd like to thank xKanra, Nizuna Fujieda, TTY7, penwing, animemangafan123, Eoura, Mazgrl98, Vixx loves this story, zxFallenAngelsXz, omgpink, W. Lynn, and Flaming Eagle.**

* * *

><p>Arisa's jaw opened in a silent scream of horror, and she slapped her icy hand to the cheek where Orihara's mouth had just rested. The nerve! That—that—utter, unbelievable, despicable, absolute… <em>donkey!<em> She almost—_almost _felt the bile rise in her throat, and she felt her face heat up. She chomped down on the lollipop that was dangling out of her mouth due to her distress.

Every word out of his mouth had been an insult. Hell, he had almost murdered her in less than thirty minutes, sliced open her arm for _payback_, and had _stolen her phone!_ And he had the nerve to say that _she _had issues?

In her frustration, Arisa stamped up and down like a three-year-old before flinging her chewed-up lollipop as far as her strength could manage. She felt the adrenaline of fury, or AOF as she had labeled it, course through her veins. Clenching her fists, her mind began to churn with ideas of repayment. If he wanted a cat and mouse game, she would make sure that _she_ was in the panther role. An insane, Cheshire grin crossed her face and she raced over to the edge of the building to look below. She had the entire city to use at her disposal! Oh, the wonderful city of Ikebukuro! She continued to muse to herself for several moments before she remembered the girl whose identity she had stolen.

Whoops.

She made her way over to Suki Arisawa, ignoring the fact that the girl shrunk under her gaze. Arisa immediately replaced her half-crazed expression with a serene, kind smile.

"What am I doing here?" the girl asked, shifting uncomfortably. Her grey jacket rustled with the wind that combed through the night air.

Arisa stopped in front of her. "Honestly, I have no clue. Why don't we go get something to drink and talk about what happened?"

The girl's eyes widened in fear and she stuttered a refusal.

Arisa's shoulders slumped in mock disappointment. It would have been so useful to discover Orihara's methods.

"Come on, Suki," she grinned reassuringly, noticing with dismay that the girl flinched at the sound of her name coming from her mouth. Arisa frowned. "It'll be on me. How about it?"

Suki sighed, glancing worriedly to the side. Arisa could predict the thoughts that were racing through her mind. She was probably terrified of her, but she also wanted to know why she had been kidnapped. On the other hand, perhaps she could discover her and Orihara's identities and report them to the police. And to top it off, she _was_ thirsty.

Arisa felt a flutter of excitement when Suki finally agreed. She breezed by her to hold the door as the startled kidnappee entered through.

"Thanks for surrendering, Orihara!" Arisa crowed quietly to the empty night air. She was so smug that she did not even notice when she ran into the glass door down in the lobby. At least _that _evoked a reaction from the girl who was _still _texting.

"So, you're telling me that they just asked you your name and then kidnapped you?" Arisa asked, gaping at the girl across the table. Thankfully, she had managed to convince her that she had nothing to do with the incident. According to her fabricated tale, Orihara was a suicidal psychopath that was her father's patient. He had escaped from the asylum earlier that week and had already tried to break into the prime minister's mansion to work as a janitor.

The wheels in her head were churning and she furrowed her brow in concentration. Obviously, Orihara had been intelligent enough to research Suki. He had even found the authentic person and had gone through the trouble to kidnap her. But why? Just to mess with her head? Arisa grimaced—what a sicko. What if Suki really _was _suicidal? Would Orihara have encouraged her to jump? Her stomach twisted as she realized that was _exactly _what he would do.

Suki nodded. "But why did they bring me to you?"

Arisa widened her eyes and gulped quickly at her hot chocolate that contained half the chocolate plus another third. "He's is pretty mental. He's been causing us a lot of trouble lately."

She looked at her watch, bored with the conversation. She had gotten the information she needed and it was already nine thirty. "I gotta bounce, Suki-san. Again, I apologize on behalf of my patient. I'll be sure that he makes proper amends."

The cool air combed through her hair as she exited the café. She took three steps and then promptly fell down, sprawling out on the pavement.

Groaning in pain, she raised her head and searched for the source of the attack.

"Look what you did, Walker!" a high voice scolded. "Hey, are you all right?"

The girl bent down to look at her and ogled. "_Oooh, _she could totally cosplay Ino Yamanaka!"

"No way! She looks just like Misa Amane, or Milly Ashford!" a second voice exclaimed in the same hyper manner.

Arisa flinched when she heard that. Why was she compared to possibly the ditziest dolts in the _world_? And why the _hell _were these two idiots gawking at her instead of helping her up? She bit her thumb at them, hoping they would understand the archaic insult.

She was on her hands and knees and was struggling to get up, when the girl attacked her in a tight hug, effectively pinning her to the sidewalk again. Arisa wheezed in discomfort as Thing One and Thing Two continued to argue about whom she should cosplay.

"What about Misuzu? She kind of looks like her, too, Erika!"

"_Oooh, _or _Renge!"_

Arisa groaned and took her thumb out of her teeth. "Could you get the hell off of me?" she demanded, pushing the girl away. Hurriedly getting to her feet before they could tackle her once again, she finally took a good look at her assailants.

The girl was dressed in a fitting black dress and a beanie type cap. She had pale, almost ghostly, skin, and large eyes that were brimming with obsessions of manga. Arisa would not be surprised if stars appeared as soon as she mentioned "Baccano!" Walker was wearing the same kind of sweatshirt that Masaomi had sported that morning. His hair had been dyed a dark blond color, most likely in emulation of one of his manga heroes.

She was bombarded with questions such as, "Do you go to anime conventions?", "Who's your favorite Bleach character?", "What's your favorite manga?", and "You should cosplay Misuzu!"

"Come with us to the next convention!" Walker pleaded.

Arisa sighed, exasperated. "Actually, I _am _attending one!"

"Really?" the girl named Erika exclaimed. "Which one? When is it? I haven't heard of any coming up!"

"Yeah… it's during the blue moon," she replied seriously.

"That sounds totally awesome! When is the blue moon?" Walker demanded.

"I've never heard of a blue moon… do you think it's some kind of manga expression?" Erika wondered.

"It's probably from Soul Eater. Yeah, I think I remember that!"

"Totally!" Arisa countered, having no idea what Soul Eater even was about.

"I _knew _it!" Erika shouted.

"So you're an otaku, too?" Walker asked eagerly.

"_Oooooh,_ this is going to be awesome!" Erika squealed, latching her arms around Arisa.

"We need to get her some cool cosplays!"

"But first we have to decide who she should be… how many days until the blue moon?"

"Shut the hell up, you two," a new voice ordered from behind them.

Arisa spun around and was greeted by the sight of a white van; a man in his early to mid-twenties was jumping out and walking toward them.

"Aww, come on Dotachiiiin, you're no fun!" the girl in black complained, latching herself onto him and squeezing his midsection in a tight hug.

"_Don't _call me that! It's Kyohei," he mumbled, peeling the girl's hands off his back. He nodded toward Arisa. "You all right?"

"Yeah, fine, Dotachin," she added complacently, delighted when Kyohei cringed. It was just too much fun!

"But who are you?" Thing One demanded, her statement sounding more like an exclamation than a question.

"KAGAMI ARISA!" a voice bellowed from across the street. It sounded angry. The sixteen-year-old spun around and felt her heart sink when she caught sight of her uncle marching across the street, a determined glint in his eye. He looked quite wrathful, and Arisa was not sure to what extent his ire could go. Frankly, she did not want to find out, but she sighed wistfully and accepted her inevitable fate.

"_Arisa-saaaan!_" Walker shouted gleefully, and he and Erika again engulfed her in an embrace.

"MY GOD, it's the slasher!" Arisa bellowed, pointing at her uncle. He immediately jerked his head, staring wide-eyed behind him to see if there really was a red-eyed butcher preparing to murder him.

Thing One and Thing Two promptly screamed bloody murder and ripped themselves away, running blindly into the white van. Erika tumbled over Walker in her attempt to get inside, and Arisa could not help but chuckle quietly to herself as the black-clad girl stepped on his head in her haste.

"Well, see ya, Dotachin!" she waved, now jogging over to her uncle, who was about to cry with mixed anger and frustration.

Kyohei looked as if he might explode with exasperation.

To be honest, Arisa felt quite terrible for causing such worry to her uncle. He looked so disappointed as he walked beside her down the dark streets. She had tried to strike up a conversation with him, but he had gotten even angrier when she let slip that she had eaten sweets exclusively all day.

In fact, Hideki could not _believe_ how many sweets she had eaten. He was _dentist_, for heaven's sake, and his niece gobbled up candy like a monster.

"You know what I'm in the mood for?" she demanded of her companion as she skipped backwards down the sidewalk. "_Milk! _Well, to be precise, chocolate milk. But, seeing that you wouldn't permit that, plain milk would be all right."

"If you want milk, go ahead and get it," he consented. They were in front of a small grocery store, and he handed her several hundred yen. "I'll wait out here. Do you think you can handle yourself alone for a few minutes?" he asked, a warning lilt to his tone.

Arisa looked at him weirdly. However, she did not reply and instead entered the small produce store

Several meters away, she saw that there was one more bottle of milk left in the fridge. She walked faster, her eyes focused on the bottle of frothy, thick, creamy, _mottled, viscous, cowish, gross milk._ Well, she had brought it on to herself.

Then, a figure blocked her view of the cow's waste. It opened the door of the refrigerator. Its hand was reaching out to grip the cold, refreshing bottle in its hand. There was absolutely no way that she was returning to her uncle empty-handed. Arisa shot across the last few feet and snatched the bottle up by the neck right before the figure could curl its fingers around it. She cradled it to her chest and watched with interest as the hand curled into a fist that looked as if it were about to pummel someone… namely her.

She looked up through a blonde curtain of hair and into the face of a giant. Her jaw dropped.

"_Whoah_," she said bluntly, as she gaped at a large brute of a man with golden blonde hair. He was actually very good-looking. Behind his blue-tinted sunglass, she thought she could see honey-brown eyes that looked quite similar to her own. He was dressed in an elegant bartender's suit that accentuated his lean figure.

The man was breathing heavily, and he slammed the refrigerator door so hard that the glass from the window cracked and plummeted to the floor.

"Impressive!" Arisa exclaimed, twisting the cap off her bottle.

The man ripped the cigarette out of his mouth and snapped it between two fingers. Then, he threw it on to the floor and ground it under his feet, the glass crackling along with the nicotine and paper.

"You realize someone else was reaching for that, _right_?... So you should know it wasn't yours, _right_?... If you know this, you realize you just stole someone else's property, _right_?... Therefore, you can't complain if you're punished, _right_?" he demanded slowly.

Arisa shrugged. "I guess that's fair, but if I don't walk out of here with this, then my uncle will kill me anyway!" She took a sip of the milk, made a face, and swallowed with difficulty.

The man in front of her growled like a feral animal. It seemed as though he was trying extremely hard not to punch her across the room so that she landed in the pile of tomatoes that was set up by the entrance door.

She went on. "I mean, _really_, bartender-kun. If I had the options of being murdered and potentially critically injured, I think I'd choose the latter, wouldn't you?"

She took a tentative sip of her milk, watching the tall blonde bartender as she did so. She grimaced. "But I _usually _don't prefer milk. I personally prefer hot chocolate or something sweet like that. This evening my uncle Hideki forbid me to eat or drink sweets in front of him….Such a shame—you really like it, don't you? I'm sorry there's none left for you, but I suppose that's—"

Arisa stopped rambling when she saw that the man had picked up the entire refrigerator and was holding it above his shoulders. He was glaring at her like a bull that had just been released in an arena.

"On the other hand, I suppose we could, you know, share?" she offered, holding out the bottle in a friendly gesture. She gave a small, guilty smile.

The man growled again, and the smile faded.

"How about the entire bottle?" she squeaked.

"_Who the hell are you?_" he thundered. Arisa now noticed the audience of customers who were keeping at a safe distance, pointing and whispering with giggly horror.

She opened her mouth and stared at this superhuman… _specimen _before her. The huge display fridge was balanced precariously on his shoulders, and she could not help but be reminded of a magnificent titan.

"_Glorious_," she breathed, and pointed at him. "You know who you remind me of? The titan Atlas! You know—the titan that was overthrown by the gods Zeus and Hera and was forced to hold up the sky for eternity? Wait. You probably would not know… seeing as this is Japan…."

Arisa ducked as the appliance hurtled past her, barely grazing her head as it slammed into the glass window of the grocery store. She burst into hysterical laughter as the line of spectators scattered to make room for the airborne object.

"You know it's rude to point, don't you?" he said dangerously. "And are you implying something with your stupid comments?"

Implying something?

Arisa jumped when she caught sight of her uncle rushing through the door. Obviously, word had gotten around on the streets that there was a dispute occurring in the quiet market. Then, she caught sight of the broken window and realized that he had probably seen the shattered glass and assumed that she had everything to do with it. How disappointing!

Despite being in mortal danger, Arisa could not prevent the amused, "Sure," to escape from her lips. The man ripped up a fruit stand in his ire, and she eagerly watched the workings of his muscles. He did not even _seem _to have such strength at first glance! He defied the laws of physics, for heaven's sake!

"_Arisa-chan,_" her uncle buzzed worriedly, cautiously stepping forward.

The man turned on him. "You know this girl?" he demanded, his hand tightening on another crate of melons.

"She's my responsibility, Heiwajima-san," he said, shaking with fear.

"Heiwajima?" Arisa repeated, frowning. The name sounded familiar, and then she almost heard the click resound in her brain. "Right… so your name is Heiwajima Shizuo. According to Kida, I should steer clear of you!"

Her uncle closed his eyes and took her arm in a vice-like grip.

She looked up from her uncle's hand and was startled to see that Heiwajima was prying another crate off the ground. It was full of red, juicy strawberries.

"_Not the strawberries!_" she pleaded, running forward and kneeling in an attempt to rescue the lovely, little mouthfuls of joy that were spilling out of the crate. Heiwajima looked murderous. His muscles rippled as he prepared to release his anger on the poor strawberries.

"Shizuo-san!" a curt voice barked, and both Arisa and Heiwajima turned as a classily dressed man with dreadlocks jostled through the crowd of spectators. "No! Look at whom you're attacking!"

He reached the pair and placed a steadying hand on Heiwajima's shoulder. It ended up being a pretty comical image, as he had to extend his arm quite high in order to reach it. The blonde man's vision seemed to clear and his breathing steadied after several moments. He now took a closer look at the girl he had almost killed.

"I never attack girls," he mumbled, throwing the crate of strawberries down at his feet.

"That's right," the man replied, a firm edge lacing his voice.

Arisa looked down and tentatively picked up a particularly ripe strawberry. She stood up, still staring at the piece of fruit in her hand, and walked forward several steps until she was right in front of Heiwajima.

"If you forgive me… this strawberry is for you," she told him, offering him the fruit that was resting on her palm.

Heiwajima blinked.

"I'll also buy you a _whole _carton of milk. Every day for an entire day!" she told him earnestly.

The blonde looked at her like she was the dumbest person he had ever met. Hmm, so he obviously took the trolling seriously. Arisa took his large hand and pressed the strawberry into his palm. He did not get angrier, so she took this as a good sign.

"You're pissing me off," he told her honestly, but his voice was steady and much calmer than before.

"All right," Arisa consented. "I'll buy a gallon for you every day for an entire week. How's that?"

"Arisa-chan, I think we're finished here," her uncle said nervously, ready to sprint for the exit.

"It starts tomorrow, little girl," Heiwajima ground out, his fist curled into a trembling ball. Obviously, he was trying extremely hard not to destroy everything in close proximity.

* * *

><p>After setting down Heiwajima's cartons of milk on his front step, Arisa peered up at the small, modest house that hosted the huge super-human. It resembled a normal, benign abode—there were even pretty flower pots scattered about on the porch and in the small lawn!—so Arisa assumed he lived with his mother, or maybe grandmother.<p>

Despite her uncle's profuse advice not to run into Heiwajima again, to just set down the milk and get out, Arisa hesitantly rang the doorbell. Perhaps a kind old lady would answer the door.

She waited several seconds and decided to press her ear to the wood of the green door. It suddenly swung open, and Arisa fell forward onto the wooden floor of the foyer, choking as her lollypop nearly was shoved down her throat. The figure stepped quickly aside and picked up the milk that she had left on the front step.

"What do you want?" he asked gruffly while lighting a cigarette that was dangling out of his mouth.

Arisa shot up and peered into his face. "Do you live alone?"

He stiffened. "_Yes_."

"Are you lonely?"

He paused and seemed to debate if he should throw her out of the house or give her a semi-civil response. He went with the latter and replied, "No."

Arisa shrugged. "Okay. Well, I'm feeling kind of lonely. Will you walk me to school?"

"No."

"Shizuo-kun?" an elderly voice called from the other room.

Arisa's ears perked up and she watched with wide eyes as a kind looking woman shuffled into the room.

"Grandma?" Arisa assumed, raising an eyebrow.

"Who's this young lady, honey?" she asked him.

Shizuo looked like he wanted to bolt out the door by the way he was gnawing on his cigarette in impatience.

"I don't know what the hell her name is, but she's pissing me off!" he growled.

"My name is Kagami Arisa!" she interrupted sunnily. "I owe him milk for the entire week, and came to drop it off before school."

"Oh, isn't she sweet!" the elderly lady cooed, reaching out to take Arisa's hands. "Shizuo-kun, I want you to walk her to school now, especially after everything she's doing for you."

Arisa nearly burst into laughter at the ironic turn of events. Over his grandmother's shoulder, she smirked at the large blonde, enjoying his frozen state of shock. She watched, transfixed, as he yanked the cigarette out of his mouth and snapped it. He threw it to the ground in the same fashion as last night, and stomped on it with his foot.

"Oh, please, Heiwajima-san?" she grinned at him as he filled with rage.

"Come now, some fresh air will do you good," his grandmother turned around to look at him. She frowned at his state. "Now, now, dear, it's not a big chore. You should be thrilled to escort this young lady to school."

Arisa could not stop the giggle that erupted from her throat and smothered it with a cough. His grandmother could not fathom why Shizuo was so disinclined to walk with her. She obviously did not know what had transpired the night before.

"Very _well_," he mumbled, digging his hands in his pockets in defeat. He slouched, another cigarette firmly in place, and marched out the door.

They made an odd pair as they walked through the streets. Arisa was walking slightly ahead of Heiwajima, a permanent grin etched into her visage; Heiwajima, on the other hand, scowled incessantly. The people around them left them a wide berth, staring nervously at the taller blonde as they passed by.

"So, Heiwajima, who are some of your friends in Ikebukuro? Enemies? I want to know _everything _about you!" Arisa goaded, walking backwards and staring up at her companion.

His frown deepened as he stared back at her, but it looked a little more thoughtful than before.

He did not answer for some time.

"What, has the cat caught your tongue? Or in this case, ciggy?" she laughed at her own joke, even if it was terrible.

"I add a new name to my list of enemies once in a while. Do you want to know who just was listed as number two?"

Arisa stared wide-eyed at him; she was quite certain as to whom _that _was.

"No, but I want to know who's number one," she replied, turning around so she was walking right beside him.

He paused for a split second and looked down at her. Then he shook his head and continued walking.

"Shizuo—can I call you that?—now you've really heightened my curiosity. That's possibly the _worst _thing to do if you don't want me to bother you. You told me you had a list of enemies but you didn't tell me who they were. Obviously, I won't stop bugging you until you divulge the list!"

"Kid, why don't you go ask anyone on the street who's my worst enemy," he replied gruffly.

"Excuse me, sir?" she stopped a short, balding man who was trying to run past in his fear.

He halted and stared shiftily from Shizuo to Arisa.

"Do you know who Heiwajima Shizuo's number one enemy is?" she demanded.

The man stuttered. His eyes shifted to the right and to the left before he gasped out, "From wh-what I've heard, it's that info broker from Sh-Shinj-j-juku, O-orihara I-izaya!"

Arisa's eyes narrowed, and the man sprinted away. She looked up and realized that Heiwajima was quite far ahead. To be honest, she was quite grateful, lest he lose his temper at hearing Orihara's name. Jeez, that stalker really did top most people's lists of enemies. So was Orihara Izaya the antagonist of Ikebukuro? Well, that was interesting.

She was speeding to catch up to her escort, and had almost reached his side, when she noticed it—or him.

In the glass window of the fourth floor of an office building, a man dressed elegantly in a black outfit stood over the crowd. He was holding a pair of binoculars up to his eyes and was focusing them on the street below.

Once again, Arisa narrowed her eyes and quickly looked away in case he saw that she had noticed him. Running up to Heiwajima, she gripped his sleeve.

"Shizuo, thanks for this, but I think I can make it from here," she said seriously.

Perhaps it was from her strange tone, or just that he _wanted _to leave, but Shizuo looked down abruptly. He asked, "You sure?"

Arisa nodded. "Thanks again. I like you. You're quite nice. I _knew _you were really a big softie," she crooned, patting his hand.

His lips twitched around his cigarette, but then they returned to their usual frown. "Fine. I'll see you tomorrow morning. Or maybe I won't. Don't ring the doorbell tomorrow."

Arisa displayed an expression of mock hurt and sniffed. "I'll do as I please!"

She reached into her backback and pulled out a grape lollypop. She held it out for him to take. "Maybe you should switch to lollypops. They're just as good, if not better, than those cigarettes you like so much. Plus, they won't kill you!"

"They'll kill my teeth, though," he pointed out, gesturing to her own permanently stained lips.

"Better than your heart, eh?" she commented, placing the candy stick into the pocket of his bartender coat. "See you later!"

"Later," he said dully as she sprinted off in the _opposite _direction. He briefly wondered if she knew what she was doing before he was distracted by the grape lollypop. That was unexpected.

Meanwhile, Arisa calmed her pace and tried to blend in with the crowd as she entered the office building. She quickly found the stairs and started up them, taking them three at a time.

When she reached the fourth floor, she quietly opened the door and peered down the empty corridor. She navigated her way around the several corridors before she finally saw him. It had been several minutes since she had first noticed him while outdoors, and he was in the exact position as before.

Arisa quietly walked up behind him, noticing the absence of his customary jacket.

Then, she pounced up right beside him and snatched the binoculars out of his hand.

Unfortunately, Orihara did not even appear flustered. He simply peered pleasantly down at her.

"Good morning, Risa-chan! I knew you could not stay away!" he crooned.

"Yes, good morning, Orihara. I do hope you're enjoying spying on people. Tell me, how does it feel to live as a reputed stalker and enemy of the city?"

A thoughtful look crossed his handsome—extremely handsome—face. The bright morning sun shone directly onto his pale skin and lit up his auburn eyes so that they resembled orbs of fire. Well, that was an aspect of him that the dark hid quite well. She briefly wondered what his face would look like if there were a full moon in the sky. Too bad it had been a new moon the previous night, she thought mournfully. Then, she realized how stupid her thoughts were and returned to the task at hand.

"Please, call me Izaya, dear. To respond to your question, it feels… refreshing," he said with relish. "It's so addicting! Like a drug you can't stop taking! It's like a permanent high! It's so addicting, it's so addicting!" he exclaimed, spinning around in his excitement.

"Kind of like coffee, right?" she said dully, assuming by the constant smell of coffee that he seemed to emit.

"Or lollypops," he replied, smirking down at her.

Arisa ignored his last comment and raised the binoculars to her eyes. She leaned over and peered down into the crowd below. The absolute detachment from the ground and the bird's-eye-view made her feel godlike. This must be why he came up here and did this.

"_So_, you either come up here to feel like a god, or to watch people secretly masturbate," she told him, catching sight of a certain case of said action directly below her.

Orihara burst into laughter. "That's a unique way of describing it," he commented. "I call it observation."

She waited for him to stop cackling.

"You owe me fifteen thousand yen," he remarked out of the blue.

Arisa gaped at him. "For _what?_"

He stared at her like _she _had lost her mind. "For ripping my jacket, of course! I had to bring it to the tailor, then to the seamstress, then to the dry cleaner! You don't think you can just get away with that, now, do you, Risa-chan?"

Arisa smirked at him, emulating his own condescending trademark. "Well, that's too bad, because I have no money. You'll just have to pay it yourself."

Orihara returned the smirk. "Believe it or not, Risa-chan, I don't want your payment in money… rather, I want you to pay with something more… _useful _to me."

Her heart stopped. He didn't mean… no.

"Jeez… I'm sorry to burst your bubble, Orihara, but I'm not giving you anything pertaining to erotic pleasures," Arisa replied, venom lacing her tone.

To her surprise, he started laughing again. "Did you _really _think that's what I meant? How deliciously _na__ï__ve_ you are!"

Her breath caught in her throat when he leaned in close to her. "I'll just be requiring your services for an indefinite period of time. It's undecided yet. Buuuut I'll be calling you soon to inform you of your assignments."

"You do realize this is involuntary servitude, don't you? Thus, you're making me your slave?" Arisa demanded.

"Of course not!" Orihara looked offended. "You're simply repaying me for the trouble you put me through. I spent a lot of money on you, you should realize. You're practically my property now!"

"Well, if I'm your property, then I think you're mine too. I saved your life, didn't I?" she reminded him, snatching the binoculars that he had retrieved seconds before.

"_Very well_. Why don't we just wait to see who wins this little game, hm?" he suggested. He reached up and twirled a piece of her hair between his long fingers.

"I _do _like games," she said thoughtfully. She sized Orihara up. "If I have to do services for you, then I think I can demand things in return, correct?"

"Now that you mention it, Risa-chan, you'll actually be getting paid! How's that?" he said excitedly. "But that's mostly to appease your uncle, who will probably start prying into why you don't come home as soon as school is over."

"Yeah—wait, how did you know I live with my uncle?" she demanded, outraged.

"Risa, darling, you _know_ I'm an info broker. I can dig up anything I want about you!" he said gleefully, twisting the same lock of hair. "I like you. Much more than most people, actually, and I like most people immensely! That means you're quite special to me."

Arisa rolled her eyes. What a weirdo. "We just met," she deadpanned.

"Which makes you even more exceptional," Orihara provided, grinning a Cheshire cat smile.

"To be honest, Orihara, you're pretty weird. I'm not working for you."

Orihara continued to smile and reached around her head to gather all her hair. Arisa felt her neck tingle when his cool hands brushed against it, and she grudgingly noted that it was not unpleasant.

"Now," he breathed into her ear as he combed through her locks. Arisa shuddered as his warm breath danced across her cheek; however, she scrunched her nose at the stench of sugary coffee. "Do you like me, Risa-chan?"

A strangled sound escaped her throat from his close proximity. She had not felt this way last night—or any time for that matter. She felt… strangely safe, even if she was concerned for her company's sanity. Despite the warmth in the corridor, she felt a cold tingle where his hand was brushing her neck as he combed her hair.

"No. You give me the jitters," she said. The last half was the truth, but in a completely different—worse way.

Orihara chuckled. "That's fine by me! You're very enjoyable company, Risa-chan! You'll soon find that we will be very compatible co-workers!"

Inwardly, Arisa groaned.

* * *

><p><strong>Arisa is NOT related to Shizuo in ANY way. That would be ridiculously clichéd! And just to clarify, I adore Shizuo to pieces. I guess it's just her personality to piss everyone off initially. I hope to develop their relationship enough so it eventually will resemble rival siblings, in a way. I'm not sure yet.<strong>

**I had an amazing review given to me by one reader that really helped me see the last chapter with a new perspective. I realize that Izaya is, in fact, a psychopath; so how can Arisa fall in love with someone whom she considers very creepy? In the manga, Shinra is the only person Izaya considers a friend, and that is because they share a very detached outlook. The fact that he has a friend in itself brings out Izaya's own hidden humanity. I think that Arisa's personality is similar enough to divulge this even more. Relationships are never perfect. I guess Arisa will love his human side, and eventually, come to love the crazy side as well. I hope to expose some of this human side in their upcoming encounter.**

**Arisa and Izaya are trolls to the extent where they perform unnecessary, dangerous risks, just for their own amusement. There is no material gain. Another difficult factor for me to consider is that Izaya is perhaps one of the most complex manga characters I've ever encountered. He has so many layers, and that is why he is so challenging to write.**

**Penwing: Thank you so much for your support. I really appreciate your input. I hope that I can continue to hold your interest! And I do hope Arisa won't become an obnoxious OC! (I realize she is quite trollish and annoying, but hopefully, not in a bad way!)**

**Vixx loves this story: Thank you! I'm glad you think she's funny. She's very difficult to develop. I think her interactions with Izaya are the most difficult, but at the same time, the funnest part of writing this fic!**


	5. Chapter 5

I'd like to thank Vixx loves this story, caitie29, Annoyed, penwing, Willow of the Bleeding Spectre, Ren Sayonia, dreamy-silhouettes, Starlitebreaker, Mystical Blue Fire, W. Lynn, Lady Hawk Wind, TTY7, animemangafan123, Nizuna Fujieda, ILoveReadingAndWriting, and Bree Renee.

* * *

><p>xo Orihara Izaya ox (08:15:13) : Risa darling I NEED YOU<p>

xo Orihara Izaya ox (08:45:16) : RISA-CHAN GET MY LAUNDRY

xo Orihara Izaya ox (09:13:49) : Risa-chan, how would you like to come meet my personal therapist?

xo Orihara Izaya ox (10:05:18) : Go out for sushi this Saturday, Risa-chan?

xo Orihara Izaya ox (10:33:56) : I have a job for you, if you want money $_$ or CANDY

Arisa scrolled through the ridiculous set of messages Orihara had been sending her for the _past seven hours_. Didn't he know she was at school? Her mind was screaming at her, asking why on Earth she had agreed to this. Before long, she would know his cell phone number like the back of her hand. And she did _not _want to know his cell phone number like the back of her hand. It would surely bring nightmares.

She punched the reply button and began typing into her rarely used texting keyboard. Grimacing because she knew it wouldn't work on the git, she typed: "You've reached the message box of Ikebukuro's Honda Orphanage! Thinking about adoption? You've contacted the right place!"

Several minutes later, her phone vibrated again. She could _not _believe this.

xo Orihara Izaya ox (2:45:43) : Very funny, Risa-chan. Too bad Honda Orphanage doesn't exist. Believe me, I would know! Anyway, your first assignment is to wash my clothes. My apartment door will be unlocked and the clothes will be on the floor by the desk. Oh, and don't forget to buy my favorite coffee! Hugs and kisses1!

What the _hell_ was going on in this psychopath's head? He told her where the clothes were, but not the apartment. And what was his favorite kind of coffee?

Scowling in anger, she hit reply and first told him to see a psychiatrist before asking him where his apartment was. She waited several minutes for a reply, but was surprised when none came. Gritting her teeth, she slammed her head onto the keyboard of the computer she was using.

"Who are you texting, Arisa?" Mikado asked from beside her.

"No one important," she replied, a bit too quickly.

Mikado took the hint, but Kida just couldn't mind his own darn business. His blonde head flashed out from behind Mikado, and he attempted to whisper across his buddy.

"Not important? Your phone's been vibrating all day! Who is it? Your mom? Your uncle? A boyfriend?"

Arisa rolled her eyes at his sad attempt to be inconspicuous. "I said no one important, Kida! Just someone I know from around."

Kida put up his hands in mock surrender and responded, "No need to get defensive, Risa. Just being a good friend that's a boy."

She stared at him for several moments and decided not to answer; instead, she turned to face the computer program she was finishing up. Mikado had somehow already finished, and was helping a useless Kida.

Why wasn't he responding? She imagined his pale lips curving upward in a twisted smirk, his pixie-like nose scrunching up in amusement as he gave an evil chuckle and read her helpless message. Crossing her arms, she decided she had had enough of computer programming for today. Therefore, she randomly (not-so-randomly) jutted out her foot and kicked out the power cord, causing every single computer in the row to shut down.

In the confusion and hubbub that followed, Arisa slipped out the door and decided to take a stroll in the school's courtyard for the last ten minutes before the bell rang signaling the end of the day. Then, she stopped short.

"You have _got _to be kidding me," she muttered in annoyance. She was staring right at a familiar large white van. However, instead of the pure white it had been only the night before, Dotachin or Erika or Walker (probably the latter two) had graffiti'd the words "Free candy" all over the side. Were they really _that_ desperate to have her come to one of those anime conventions?

Crossing her arms, she marched smartly up to the van. Well, she was going to give those two a piece of her mind… then, she could demand the candy. She abruptly yanked the door aside and opened her mouth.

However, no sound came out as she was snatched by the hair and dragged into the van by unfamiliar hands. She gasped and let out an "ooph" as she was tossed onto the seat.

"This one's a real dope. Do you think the boss really wanted this one?" the small one with the pink sweatshirt rasped.

"Matches the description—" the kidnapper started reading a text off his phone as Arisa's hands were tied with rope, "blonde hair, lollypop lips, Caucasian features, adorable expressions—" he grimaced at the last part and looked up. Arisa had been sandwiched between two of the accomplices, and was currently trying to move her head away from one who was sniffing her hair.

"Don't worry, _cutie_, we'd never hurt you!" pink sweatshirt giggled, running a hand down Arisa's cheek.

"_We _would, but the boss said not to," the other thug in the grey sweatshirt divulged.

She just had to remain calm. Whoever had ordered these thugs to kidnap her obviously did not choose them for their intelligence. In fact, she could totally visualize them at a rundown bar gambling and losing… and losing… that's probably why they had to kidnap for a living. Satisfied with her reasoning and thankful that she had not lost her head, she formulated a plan as the van started speeding down the streets of Ikebukuro.

"Gentlemen," she rasped, nervousness getting the better of her. Dammit, she sounded like a mouse. She needed honey for sweetness and chocolate for smoothness.

They looked at her in awe—as if their kidnapees had never before talked to them, which was probably the case.

She continued, "I would love to spend time with you wonderful gentlemen, but I was actually just about to play a couple rounds of cards with my buddy Shizuo Heiwajima…." Honey and chocolate!

They stared dumbly at her for several moments, and even the driver had slowed down to hear what she was saying.

"You play cards with that crazy asshole?" pink sweatshirt demanded incredulously.

"Totally. In fact, I could show you some of my tactics if you untie me. I have a deck of cards in my bag right now—and get this: it's Bleach themed!" she exclaimed. She nearly laughed aloud at their expressions of surprise; she had filched the deck from Mikado at lunch after they had played a couple rounds of ERS.

"I love Bleach! It's totally the greatest anime ever!" the grey-sweatshirt declaimed, and he and pink-sweatshirt scurried to untie her.

"Agreed!" she crowed, hoping against hope they wouldn't ask her to tell them her favorite episode, because God knows she had only seen a single episode in her life. "I wake up to Ichigo every morning!"

"You idiots! What are you doing?" the driver demanded, whipping off his dark sunglasses and turning around to see what was going on; as a result, the van swerved so sharply that he had to turn back around to face the road. An alarming symphony of honks from irritated drivers sounded along the street.

Honey and chocolate! "Don't worry, Driver-san, we're merely playing a game of ERS. Sorry you can't join us, but I'm sure we can play later!" Arisa said peppily as she dealt out the cards to her eager companions.

"Don't get too close to her, you two. A girl is the last thing we need for this business."

"Why? We need a pet!" pink sweatshirt whined, and grey-sweatshirt agreed.

Arisa inwardly cringed at his comment.

"So guys, where are we headed?" Arisa asked casually, giving pink-sweatshirt a friendly poke and a warm smile.

"Just to some apartment building in Shinjuku, where the boss hangs around," grey-sweatshirt replied quickly.

"Ah, and do you work exclusively for this boss or for others as well?"

"Mostly for him, but we do some work for others as well, especially that Yagiri Pharmaceuticals place—"

Pink-sweatshirt was promptly hit in the face with a cup of coffee.

"_Enough!_" Driver-san hissed from the front, and Arisa nearly gagged from the stench of coffee that wafted up to her nose.

"Oh?" Arisa prompted, but she had lost her footing. Now, pink-sweatshirt and Driver-san were arguing hotly while grey-sweatshirt nimbly snatched up and threw down cards on the van's carpet; Arisa continued to play, but she perked up her ears as she listened to their argument.

"You idiot! What are you thinking?"

"Come on, this chick is harmless! Plus, she's a _teenage_ chick!"

"Again, you're an idiot! The boss told us she was smart."

_Who is this boss? And how does he know me? _Arisa wondered to herself. To be honest, she was freaked out by this entire situation. She felt her phone in her pocket. If only she could distract these three just for a moment, she might be able to call her uncle, Kida, Mikado, Anri, Heiwajima, or even Orihara.

"How smart can a teenage chick who walks up to a van advertising free candy be?" pink-sweatshirt demanded.

"Hey, I'm right here," she interrupted, holding up a hand in an "are you an idiot" gesture.

"Just shut up, Tsukuda," Driver-san snapped. "Play your dumb game and _don't _reveal anything else!"

"So who's the boss?" Arisa asked stupidly.

"And _you!_" Driver-san rounded on her. "If you don't stop asking questions, you won't live very much longer!"

Arisa held up her hands in surrender.

"Dude, you cheated!" grey-sweatshirt exclaimed to pink-sweatshirt.

"I did not, you piece of—"

Grey-sweatshirt reached across Arisa and punched pink-sweatshirt in the nose.

Great, now there was going to be an outright brawl, and she would be smack in the middle of it.

"Now, now boys, let's play nicely, all right? It's just a fun game, anyway!" she said lightly, praying they would use common sense and not start a fight in the car.

"She's right," pink-sweatshirt conceded, and Arisa nodded thankfully to him.

"You're just saying that because now you won't have to pay for cheating!" grey-sweatshirt accused.

Arisa rolled her eyes; honestly, this was ridiculous. If only she had waited ten more minutes for the bell to ring, she wouldn't be stuck with these mental patients.

"Oooh, look who's winning?" she held up her large stack of cards and looked pointedly at their own thinning stacks.

"You stupid girl, not for long!" grey-sweatshirt shot back, and the game started anew with a higher intensity.

"Bring it, you're looking at the new champion," pink-sweatshirt said as he slammed his fist down on a pair of cards that was not, in fact, a double. Arisa snickered.

The slaps and slams continued until the entire deck of cards rested in Arisa's palm.

"Losers buy the candy," she smirked, shoving her hand into her competitors' faces.

"My, my, my," an all-too-familiar voice rolled over her ears. Her back stiffened and she slowly turned around. "You really _can_ convince anyone—even paid kidnappers—to do as you tell them. You truly are exceptional, Risa-chan."

Orihara was standing at the open door, his arms crossed over his chest as he regarded the scene in amusement.

"Orihara-san!" pink-sweatshirt gasped, sweat running down his temple as his hands were tied behind his back by a dark figure with a yellow helmet. Then, he was thrown into the heap that included grey-sweatshirt and driver-san. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I heard there was a certain damsel-in-distress being kidnapped," he began, staring at his fingernails, "…and, being the kind soul that I am, I decided to do something about it."

He snapped his fingers and signaled Arisa to come join him. Her mouth dropped open. The dolt was treating her like a dog. She could not believe it, but she would rather stay with the kidnappers than lose all her dignity by responding to that command.

"How did you know?" other-thug asked.

"The stupid blonde obviously texted him while you were playing that game," driver-san spat.

"I knew we should have knocked the snitch out," pink-sweatshirt complained.

Arisa scoffed and crossed her eyes. "I am _not _a snitch. And I didn't text anyone, _especially _not _him_. I'm actually surprised he isn't behind the entire kidnapping."

"Come now, Risa-chan, you're obviously traumatized," Orihara said caringly, placing an arm around her waist and drawing her closer to him. He breathed in her scent and squeezed her tenderly. She scowled and tried to draw away.

"Take care of them, Celty," he ordered, narrowing his eyes at the dark specter-like being that was watching the pair curiously. The figure pulled out a PDA and began typing on it. After several moments, she held it out in front of her.

Arisa was surprised to see that it was directed at her.

_Are you all right?_

"Yes, thank you. Who are you?"

The specter regarded her some more, tilting its head, before it began to type again. _I'm Celty. Be careful of the company you keep. _

Arisa froze. Could she mean… she looked over at Orihara. He was staring toward the entrance of the alleyway, a cold smile resting on his lips.

She turned back to respond, but Orihara had already started leading her away from the alley at a quick pace, and Arisa nearly tripped in her haste to keep up with him. She turned around for one last glance of Celty. How… strange.

After several minutes of being dragged through the streets of Shinjuku by Orihara, Arisa finally gathered her wits enough about her to demand that he return her home immediately.

"Ah-ah, you can't escape that easily, now that I have you," he said darkly, heaving open the ornate door to an opulent apartment building. He led her through a luxuriant lobby, where the operators and bellboys nodded to them, up a flight of wine-red carpeted stairs, and now they were approaching a golden elevator.

"Stop, stop, stop," Arisa ordered, drawing her feet to a halt. It was difficult, but she had finally wrenched herself away from Orihara. "I demand to know how you knew I was kidnapped and why you saved me _and _I want to know where we're going now."

To her surprise, Orihara started laughing. His cruel laughter filled the empty corridor and he turned around to regard her.

"What's so funny?" she asked, offended.

"For a girl that's as smart as you are, I would have thought you could figure it out yourself!" he said fondly, pressing the button on the elevator for the seventeenth floor.

"What are you talking about? I'm totally lost, Orihara," Arisa said wearily, not even caring anymore that their fingers were still entwined as the heady feeling of the rising elevator pounded at her developing headache.

To her annoyance, Orihara reached up and started pinching her cheeks and moving them up and down.

"You're just too cute, Risa-chan. _I_ kidnapped you," he said simply, staring almost lovingly at her.

Arisa gaped at him.

"Come now, don't act like a fish, Risa darling," Orihara said, closing her mouth by lifting her chin. Her mouth snapped shut and her lips transformed into a thin line. She turned away and crossed her arms.

"Please just leave me alone."

Orihara burst into another bout of hysterical laughter. "But you're too amusing, Risa-chan! I just want to gobble you up."

"If I were sane, I would have called the police on you ages ago," she said half-heartedly.

"Oh, you're silly. What you should know is that I pretty much own the police, darling," Orihara informed her.

"Is that so? Why am I not surprised," she sighed reluctantly and followed him out of the elevator.

He led her down the warmly-lit hallway to his penthouse and inserted his gold key into the door. Meanwhile, Arisa's blood had started to boil, and her fury was rapidly building to the surface of her blood, about to explode. Before Orihara had the chance to open to door, Arisa hit his hand away. However, he snatched her wrist before she had a chance to punch him in the face.

"Ah-ah-ah, Risa-chan," he smirked down at her.

"Why do you spend so much time and energy and money to humiliate people just for your own amusement?" she demanded.

"I could ask you the same question, Arisa," he said seriously. The amusement was gone and a stony expression had replaced his giddy look, causing him to look his actual age.

Her blood ran cold, and she shivered as Orihara reached past her waist to open the door.

"You're clever, I'll give you that," she admitted. "But that doesn't mean—whoah…"

She was staring into a radiant room with a huge window facing her. The luxuriant furniture and furnishings and appliances temporarily distracted her from the handsome informant beside her. Before she knew it, he had flung the key at her.

"That's for you," he told her. "Don't lose it."

She picked it up from the ground and inspected to shining object.

"Why are you giving this to me?" she asked him.

"Well, if you're to be my apprentice, I need you to be able to come in here when I'm not around."

"Wait, who said anything about me becoming your apprentice?"

"You did. Don't you remember from last week?"

Arisa racked her brains. He had talked to her so often since that morning a week ago that she had no recollection of that conversation. "No, I just said I would do chores for you to pay off my debt."

Orihara had moved to the other side of the room and was placing a black queen into the center of a chess board. Did he play chess by himself? What a loser.

"That's not what I remember. I remember we had decided to be co-workers, don't you? And co-workers implies workers of the same type of work, hmm?" he grinned innocently at her.

She crossed her arms. "You know what? Fine! I'll be your co-worker but definitely not your apprentice!"

Orihara chuckled and motioned her to come closer. "Of course, you'll still have to do a few other chores that I, being the busy informant that I am, cannot perform. Such as the laundry." He gestured to the heap of underwear that was lying on the wooden floor by his desk.

Arisa wrinkled her nose. "I'm not washing your underwear!"

"Oh yes you are!" he poked her nose, and Arisa drew away. "I also need more of that delicious coffee from the Starbucks that just opened up down the street!"

"When can I leave?"

Orihara shrugged. "Whenever you decide to finish your work. I gotta bounce, so see you later!"

He waved and literally bounced out the door.

Arisa scowled at the door, but was surprised by how quiet it seemed without him. She drew her jacket tighter around her, despite the warm rays that were filtering quietly through the window.

She could _not _believe she had agreed to this, especially since he had only recently kidnapped her, just to save her. Why was she so stupid? She told herself not to answer that rhetorical question. Orihara Izaya was one difficult person to understand. He was like the devil—dangerous but irresistible. Groaning, she burrowed her head in the armful of underwear she was carrying to the washing machine downstairs and was hit with a wave of spearmint. Of course, he had to smell good too.

When she reached the washing room, she angrily threw the heap of white shirts and undershirts into one of the empty machines. She was about to shut the door and add the soap, when she noticed the solitary red sock on the floor beside her machine. Had she dropped that? Probably. Picking it up, she threw it into the washer and hit the start button. Wait, was she supposed to add soap? Why had her mother never taught her how to do this sort of thing? Was she really that lazy?

She added a large amount of detergent through what looked to be a soap opening. Screwing back on the lid, she wiped her hands on a pair of white towels that were hanging to dry and left the laundry room. Now, she had to get that coffee from Starbucks.

It was almost as if he was doing this to spite her. He _knew _she hated coffee, and yet he was forcing her to walk into a coffee shop and buy tons of it. What a jumped up little addict. She marched stubbornly through the door of the café and sullenly handed over the money for ten packs of coffee. At least now Orihara couldn't complain that she hadn't bought enough. Perhaps she wouldn't have to return here for a couple more weeks.

Unfortunately, it wasn't easy to lug around ten pounds of coffee, even if his apartment was only a couple blocks away. Therefore, it took many rounds of dropping and picking up bags of coffee before she finally reached his door once again. Panting, she unlocked the door and heaved the bags onto his counter. Admiring her handiwork, Arisa was struck by sudden inspiration and decided to make an attempt at brewing some coffee. Inspecting the coffee pot, she tried to remember what her father would do when he would make the beverage back home in New York.

First, he would put one of those white filters into the coffee maker. Arisa searched around the kitchen until she found his stash of hundreds of filters. Rolling her eyes at his obvious coffee-obsession, Arisa stuffed one of the white filters into the black coffeemaker. Then, she estimated that five tablespoons of ground powder ought to be enough for two cups of coffee. Finally, the easy part was filling it with the water. Satisfied with her formula, she closed the lid and pressed the start button.

Her heart nearly stopped when she remembered the laundry downstairs. Crap! Running out the door, she incessantly pressed the elevator down button until it finally opened. Why did that dolt have to live on the top floor? Right, because he was filthy rich. Grimacing, she yanked open the door to the laundry room and ran over to the washer. Why was it open? _Why was it empty?_

Panicking, Arisa looked around for someone—anyone—to ask where Orihara's shirts had been taken.

She saw the laundry room moderator and anxiously approached him.

"Excuse me? Where did you put the clothes that were in this machine?"

He glared at her. "You're not to leave clothes unattended. I had to put your shirts into that dryer over there."

"What? I didn't know you had to watch your clothes the entire time," she defended herself.

The man pointed at a _very _conspicuous sign on the entrance door that read, _DO NOT LEAVE CLOTHES UNATTENDED._ Arisa's mouth formed a perfect 'O' and she gave the man a sheepish look.

"Right."

"I'll let you get away with it this time, since you're obviously new, but next time, your clothes are being dumped on the floor."

"Yes, janitor-san," she replied.

He bristled down at her until she left.

Burning with embarrassment, she approached the dryer he had pointed to and opened the door.

There had to be some kind of mistake.

Arisa's eyes had fallen on a mound of pink shirts. And she expressly remembered the shirts had been white. Obviously, this was the wrong dryer. Crap, she had lost Orihara's clothes, and he was going to _kill_ her.

Then, she remembered the red sock and banged her head against the top of the dryer. The red dye had obviously run with the detergent and made the white shirts pink. Crap. Crap. Crap. She was in _so much trouble_.

Numbly, she gathered the pile of pink clothes and carried them out of the room. Well, what else could she do? She was dead meat though. Maybe she could place the clothes in Orihara's closet, quietly slip away, and be sure never to meet him again?

Then she remembered he was an informant. Damn Orihara and his occupation! Cursing under her breath, she walked through the door of Orihara's flat, not even registering the fact that it was already open and she had locked it before she left.

The door shut behind her, and she didn't remember shutting it.

"Hello, Risa-chan," a voice sounded behind her. She spun around and came face to face with an unamused Orihara. Then her eyes traveled down to his chest. He had taken off his jacket, and his black tight shirt accentuated his thin figure.

She gulped.

"Do you want to know what happened when I came home? Rather, what was happening?" he waved his silver-ringed hand around his kitchen.

Arisa stared at him.

"I'll tell you, Risa-chan. Well, I walked through the door and was delighted to smell the scent of roasting coffee. I thought to myself, 'What a competent apprentice my Risa-chan is—making me coffee!' Then, I walked over to the coffee pot. And do you want to know what I saw?" he said silkily, staring Arisa right in the eyes.

She shook her head.

"I'll tell you, Risa-chan," he repeated. "Coffee _all_ over the floor. Do you want to know what you did? You didn't put the coffee pot under the coffee maker, Risa-chan," he said stonily.

Arisa gasped. "Yes I did!"

Then she stopped and thought back. Had she? She remembered doing everything except that. Whoops.

"Now do you remember?" he crooned.

"Look, Orihara—"

"What's that you're holding?" he motioned to the pile of clothes.

In her alarm, Arisa dropped the entire pile of underwear.

His face completely altered as he realized what it was, and Arisa mentally prepared herself for his anger and possible rage. The look of surprise on his face was so unusual on him that she had to stare.

Then, he burst into laughter. His laughter went on and on and on and on until she was quite sure he might faint. He had doubled over and was almost crying from mirth.

"You are..." (laughter) "…without a doubt…" (more laughter) "… the worst apprentice…" (still more laughter) "…in history," he managed to pant out between bouts of chuckles.

Disgruntled, Arisa went to see the damage done to the floor. "Look, Orihara, I'm sorry for ruining your property. Truly, I am."

"Why are you sorry? It just means I get to keep you for myself for longer! Your debt just increased to two hundred thousand yen! Those shirts are very expensive, I'll have you know!" he said gleefully. "Oh, I love it when you surprise me, Risa-chan. I don't think I'll ever tire of you."

Arisa was extremely relieved that he hadn't killed her, but then she realized what he had just said. She had just increased her debt to him nearly ten-fold. At this rate, she'd be working for him until she was thirty!

"Oh my badness, I do not know how Ikebukuro seemed interesting before you came, Risa-chan," Orihara wiped his eyes as he sipped from his take-out cup of coffee and leaned against the counter.

"Can I go now?" Arisa deadpanned.

His beautiful burgundy eyes widened innocently as he sipped from his coffee and he directed them to her.

Had she really just described his eyes as beautiful? It must have been the delirium of the coffee, she told herself.

"It's late! Don't you think you should call your uncle and tell him you're staying at a friend's house tonight?" he asked, his voice full of concern.

"Definitely not!" she retorted, feeling around in her pocket for her phone. It wasn't there. "Orihara. _Give me my phone_."

He raised his empty hands. "I don't have your phone, Risa-chan."

Arisa stomped her foot. "Yes, you do, Orihara! You're the one that stole it before, and I wouldn't put it past you to do so again!"

"Risa-chan, I'm actually being serious right now…."

Arisa marched up to him and before she realized what she was doing, she had stuck her hand right into his pockets in search of her phone.

Crap, this was exactly like feeling someone up, she realized too late as Orihara placed his hands on her waist and drew her closer, leaning down to sniff her neck.

"Stop fooling around, Orihara," Arisa said breathlessly, her voice stuck in her throat. Why did his hair have to smell so minty, she thought angrily as she dug her nails into his head of hair.

"I promise I didn't take it," he chuckled into her neck.

Could he be telling the truth? Of course not. She dug her nails even more into his head, hoping to draw blood or possibly ichor (he thought he was a god, didn't he?) or _something_. In response, Orihara nipped her ear, too hard.

She moaned in pain and stepped down on his foot as he drew her even closer.

"I hate you so much, Orihara," she whispered, lightly moving her hands around his neck. Then, her phone started vibrating. It was on the counter by the coffee pot. Ripping herself away, she tripped over his feet in her haste to get to her phone.

"Hello?"

It was her uncle, Hideki. "Arisa-chan! Where on Earth are you?"

She froze and slowly looked up at the clock. It was eight-thirty. She coughed into her hand to stall before replying, "I'm with a friend. Study-date. Sorry for not calling you, but I'll be home soon!"

"Well, hurry, because dinner is almost ready," he told her wearily.

"All right, be there soon, ojisan," she replied, pressing the end button. She stared down at her phone for several moments before slowly turning around to face Orihara, who was regarding her with an infuriating smirk on his face.

"Fine, you didn't take it. I must have left it there while I was trying to make _you_ coffee. But you're so dishonest, so how was I supposed to know you were actually telling the truth?" she responded to his calculating look.

"Believe me, I would steal your phone all the time if it meant we could resume our little liaison, Risa-chan," he smirked down at her.

"That never happened!" she squeaked, reddening in embarrassment as she felt her ear.

"Of course not, darling," he confirmed, backing up and sitting down at his computer. "Your train ticket is right there on the counter."

She reached over and picked up the first-class train ticket, a little more than surprised.

"…Thank you."

* * *

><p>Sheesh that took forever… Well at least now we know Izaya cares a little bit for Arisa's welfare other than for amusement.<p>

Review Replies:

Penwing: Thanks so much for your review! And I appreciate your suggestion for Arisa. As a matter of fact, you pointed something out to me that I can't believe I hadn't noticed before. You're totally right about Mikado probably having a great ability in computer programming. I cannot believe I was so slow to realize that, especially since this is one of my all-time favorite anime. Aahh, I know, I really should get better at developing the romance. I guess I just need practice…. And stalk away! Haha, I'm actually flattered that you want to read it! And no… unfortunately, I haven't read the light novels yet. But I plan to, especially once this story really gets going.

Annoyed: First, thank you for reading and reviewing! Haha, it made me laugh. How was this chapter for you? I hope you continue to like it!

Vixx loves this story: Here's a new chapter for you! I'm really happy you like it. Thank you :D


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks to: Nizuna Fujieda, ILoveReadingAndWriting, dreamy-silhouettes, Bree Renee, helpaqueen, TTY7, isa-chan131297, superstrawberryL, Otaku-neku, tHeEviLjOkEr, ladybug888, Starlitebreaker, lostsoul95, Vixx loves this story, XxanimeobsessionxX, AkatsukiOfNight, XxAmiIzunexX, and imagination junkie!

Chapter 6

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><p>"Tell her to meet me by the Shibuya Hotel in Ikebukuro," Orihara instructed lazily from his position on the sleek black couch.<p>

Arisa grit her teeth in annoyance, but did as she was told, turning her eyes to the computer screen and typing out the response to "Rei-chan."

"Why can't you do this yourself, Orihara?" she growled.

The trollish informant grinned and sat up, staring at her speculatively. "How many times must I tell you to call me Izaya, Risa-chan? It's only a matter of time until you won't be able to live without me," he prognosticated.

She halted typing and swiveled the black chair around to stare at him. He could not be serious. Was he really so arrogant as to believe she was so dependent upon him? Did he really think she would sit there all day waiting for him to come, starving herself just so she could eat with him, or something to that nature? She stared at him, waiting for a reaction, something that told her he was trolling her, or simply _kidding,_ but when he didn't give anything away, she started to wonder if he actually _was _that conceited. Oh wait. Yes, he _was _that arrogant, because he was a stupid prick that liked convincing people to kill themselves.

"You cannot be serious," she muttered, turning back around the finish the correspondence.

Unknown to Arisa, Orihara had lithely jumped to his feet from the couch and was currently prowling toward her like a panther about to strike. When he was right behind her, he started speaking.

"You know Risa-chan—"

He was awarded with a satisfying jump of alarm from the girl in front of him, and he tugged on her hair gleefully.

"—your specialty could be put to good use here."

"How's that?" she asked dully. "I just do it for amusement, not to kill people."

"That's exactly how we're similar, dear. We both do it for amusement. That's why…" he trailed off, turning around to look out the window.

Arisa turned her head slightly, trying to figure out just what the hell this git was saying. However, she did not want to seem interested in what he had to say, so she watched him out of the corner of her eye.

Several moments passed and Orihara sighed.

"This is where you're supposed to ask 'what', Risa-chan," he told her, like they were practicing a rehearsed script. Which, in a way, was what Orihara was doing. His predictions were usually correct in any case, and Arisa bristled in annoyance.

"First of all, why would I care what you're saying?" she paused. "But for the sake of the situation, I'll reply accordingly. _What?_"

Orihara grinned and shooed her out of his swivel chair. She was forced to stand as he spun about gleefully like a small child. On a twenty-three year old man, it seemed like it would look absurd. However, on Orihara, it just seemed normal, if not a bit endearing….

Groaning aloud at her thoughts, she crossed her arms and glared at him.

"That's why we're co-workers, also known as apprentice and sensei," he replied. She had a feeling that was not what he had been about to say, so she harrumphed and sat down on the floor.

"Good work, Risa-chan," Orihara said approvingly from his position above her. She looked up at his face as he read through the exchanges, a smirk plastered on his lips. His long legs splayed out before him and she was able to look directly up at his amused expression as he scrolled through his chat box.

"Can I leave?"

"Go ahead, darling," he replied, and Arisa breathed a sigh of relief. Putting on her jacket, she exited his apartment, sure to slam the door behind her. Since she was too lazy to use the stairs, she jabbed the down button on the gold elevator until the tardy contraption _finally _arrived, and she clicked the button for the lobby. As the elevator sunk lower and lower, she heard her tummy growl. Unfortunately for her, the only edible things in Orihara's apartment were coffee and some kind of yogurt, neither of which she particularly enjoyed. Therefore, she thought she might catch some dinner in Shinjuku before taking the train back to central Ikebukuro. She was debating what kind of dinner she should buy when she stepped out of the lobby and was met with an unpleasant sight.

Orihara was standing directly in front of her, sporting his customary jacket.

She blinked.

"Did I forget something?"

"I told you we'd go out to sushi on Saturday, didn't I?" he reminded her.

"What? When did we decide that?" she demanded, her voice rising.

"In a text message," he hummed happily, taking her hand and skipping through the lobby.

"You make me really angry," she informed him, feeling her face warm up.

"Come now, let's be friends!" he crooned, as he walked purposefully through the dimming streets of Shinjuku.

"Oooh yay," she responded blandly, trying to distract herself by staring into the eyes of passerby—as was her customary habit while traversing the streets.

"Say, Risa-chan, what do you think of that man over there?" Orihara gestured with his head over to a bespectacled man holding a newspaper. He was dressed in a trench coat and Gucci loafers.

Arisa scrutinized him. This was her favorite game to play alone, and no matter how much she hated Orihara, she would never give up the chance to play it with someone else. No one else ever seemed to want to play her game of "guess-the-random-person's-status-in-life."

"Well, on the outset… he seems quite wealthy, doesn't he?" she replied, nodding to herself. "But…"

Suddenly she felt very silly doing this with Orihara. She looked away.

"But what?"

Even though her mind was screaming at her to not respond, she really did not like the idea of losing out to Orihara. Therefore, she answered.

"But then if you look closer," she continued eagerly, "you can see that the sides of his shoes are worn, and one of the bottom buttons on his coat is missing, and he's reading an article about the fiscal state of a company, presumably his own. _And _you can tell he hasn't dyed his graying hair for quite some time."

It was then she noticed that Orihara had looped his arm through hers, and that they were exuding the impression of any couple taking a stroll at twilight. She gritted her teeth and pulled away, only to be grabbed more tightly by Orihara.

"Pervert!" she hissed, stomping on his foot.

Orihara smirked, and led her into a sushi restaurant.

"So now _you_ get to decide what I eat for dinner?" she said incredulously.

Orihara looked at her, a bit surprised. "Oh? Where would you like to eat, Risa-chan?"

It wasn't as if she knew anywhere else to eat, and the restaurant had to be decent if it was good enough for Orihara. "Fine!" she said exasperatedly and marched ahead of the smirking dolt.

The smiling waitress showed them to a table for two. Arisa looked around uncomfortably. Several customers were looking at them, particularly her partner, a bit suspiciously. Orihara did not seem to notice as he hummed merrily to Renai Circulation. He continued to mutter the words until their dinner had arrived.

"Could you quit humming that jumped-up song?" she snapped suddenly, picking up a piece of sushi with her chopsticks.

Orihara snapped his chopsticks in her face. "Don't be so miserable, Risa-chan. Now turn that frown upside down. The last thing you want is wrinkles before me, hm?"

Arisa sighed. Perhaps he was right. He would drive her to her death before she got wrinkles, anyway. Then, she thought about his statement.

"Are you implying that we'll still know each other by that time?" she demanded, outraged.

He smirked at her. "Oh, yes. I have many plans in store for you, darling."

She absent-mindedly began ripping the paper that had enclosed her straw into pieces. Her eyelids drooped, and she didn't even realize she had started whistling Renai Circulation under her breath. Now, she was loading the strips of paper into her blue and white striped straw. When it was quite full with ammunition, she brought it to her lips in an innocent manner, slowly drawing her eyes up to Orihara's face.

_Puff._

The small sphere of wet paper sailed out of the straw. A bubble of elation formed inside her stomach, inflating with anticipation before it popped in disappointment. The spit ball at zoomed right past his cheek, and instead had hit the waiter's black jacket behind him.

Arisa burst into laughter. Orihara brought a hand to his cheek and rested his chin and he stared at her as if she were a scientific specimen. He idly stirred his Fanta drink with his straw and observed her through calculating eyes.

"For your information, insufferable clotpole, I will do everything in my power to lose touch with you, even if it means becoming the dullest person on the face of the planet," she informed him, reaching over to seize the soy sauce that was beside his plate. Unfortunately, as she closed her hand over the bottle, her hand twitched and hit his glass of soda. Orihara watched, almost in a bored way, as the glass smashed to the floor and exploded into a thousand pieces.

Arisa sat back and sighed, proceeding to pour sauce onto her tuna. She was not about to apologize to him, even if her life depended on it.

Two waiters hastened over at Orihara's beckoning wave and began to wipe up the mess. Arisa, on the other hand, was just about to place her tuna on the tip of her tongue when her chop sticks were rudely torn from her hand and slapped down on the table.

She choked on her mouthful as her elbow was gripped none-too-gently and she was heaved up. Other clients stared in confusion and alarm at the retreating duo. Orihara nearly sprinted into the kitchens, past several of the alarmed cooks, and out the back door. He was now walking briskly our from the restaurant, literally dragging Arisa behind him.

"What the hell, Orihara?" she ground out. She reached up, gripped his jacket collar, and tugged until she heard the satisfying rip resound in her ears. She was holding the black material in her right hand, and she grimly smiled down at her conquest. She could swear she heard him sigh in exasperation.

"Not again, Risa-chan," he sighed, slowing down as they reached a secluded section of the city. He draped his arm over her shoulder, and moved his head close down to her left ear. Arisa froze as she felt his breath on her neck. The tickling sensation caused her hairs to stand up and her palms to begin to sweat. Then, he chuckled as he snatched the black cloth out of her right hand and straightened up.

"You—"

"Be nice now, Risa-chan. Not only has your debt just increased, but I just saved your life," he informed her.

She crossed her arms and stared up at him. "Oh? _You _saved my life? Ha! I'd say you've been trying to do the opposite for the past month we've known each other!"

His face altered immediately to one of fake concern. "Me? Try to kill you? The thought never crossed my mind! You're my apprentice, after all. I'm your future and the very reason for your current existence."

"You creep. What are you, some kind of god?" she muttered. "What was that all about back there?"

"That's for me to know, and for you not to find out!" he said gaily, springing forward and spinning around.

She glowered. No one had _ever_ gotten her so riled up before in her entire life. She had always been calm and cool. She had been the one to annoy others. It was she that riled others up, not the other way around! Perhaps Orihara was better at it? _Not for long._

* * *

><p>"Hey, Shizuo! Hey—hey, Shizuo! Shizuuuuuo!" Arisa sang, dodging the lamp post that came hurtling towards her.<p>

"Dammit, kid, can you get the hell out of here?" he growled at her, his eyes focused on the man who refused to repay his debt.

He was cowering in fear by the vending machine that was currently on its side in the middle of the sidewalk.

"Now, cough it up!" He roared at the man.

"All right! Just give me a week—one week, and I'll promise I'll have it for you next Saturday! Please, Heiwajima-san," he said tremulously before waddling away as quickly as his legs would carry him.

Heiwajima sighed in annoyance, hunched over. He stared angrily at the sidewalk.

"Shouldn't've let him go," he mumbled, fumbling around in his pocket for a cigarette. He breathed out and leaned against the brick wall. He really was too soft of a person. Wait, someone had been calling him, right? He looked around, but the kid was nowhere to be seen.

"Hmm, well that's kinda weird." He blinked, looking up and down the sidewalk for any hint of her light hair. Not seeing anything, he shrugged and continued to take drags from his cigarette.

In truth, Arisa _had _wanted to talk to Shizuo, but she had heeded his advice and streamlined it out of there for the time being. Now she was in an even worse pickle.

"You're with the Yellow Scarves, aren't you?" came the leering voice.

She had been besieged by a group of assholes in the alley where people usually get hurt. Damn, she should have realized it was a bad idea to come down here.

She spluttered, hoping that the role of a confused tourist might help her out. "What the hell are you on, man? I have no clue what you're talking about," she said in broken Japanese, emphasizing her American accent.

The group exchanged side glances, before one spat at her feet. She cringed.

"Liar. We've seen you around town, darling. You've been spying on us for the Yellow Scarves, right? We always knew that asshole was involved in the Yellow Scarves and the Dollars somehow. And _you're _either dating him or working for him, doll-face," the ring-leader rasped at her. Not only were his earring a bit distracting, but his ogling face peered down at her.

She surveyed the ground, thinking about her options. Who were they talking about? Orihara? She grimaced and crossed that option out. Although she hated to admit it, she knew Orihara was too intelligent to become fully implicated in a gang's victim list. Looking up, she immediately reeled back several inches as she was met with the curled sneer of the gang leader as he ogled at her.

Arisa burst out laughing, forgetting her accent in the process. "I'm sorry, but I can't take you seriously with that expression."

_Crap_. This was bad. Why could she never keep her thoughts to herself?

One of the men pushed her down, and now she was sitting defenseless in the dense crowd of gang members.

She held up her hands, signifying defeat.

"Disrespect from filth," one of them said harshly.

The leader put a hand on her aggressor as if the calm him down before he focused his deranged eyes on her.

"Who are you with?"

It _had _to be Heiwajima. He was conspicuous in a crowd, and she had been in his vicinity several times by now.

Well, best be honest. "No one. I am my only ally, as a matter of fact."

She was rewarded with a kick in the side, and she cringed. "Ow."

"You wanna play dirty? Let's play dirty, then," he growled, hauling her up. This seemed to happen to her a lot these days. She looked dully at the ground, but her mind was rapidly reviewing her options. Perhaps the best way out of this was to confess? It would be a lie, but still, it may be her only chance. Besides, there was currently a fist that was about to impact her face in a few milliseconds.

"Wait—"

Too late. The knuckle hit her nose and she ducked down in pain. Holy shatoofles, that was bloody _hell_. She clutched her nose and felt the warm liquid leak onto her hand. She blinked in slight shock as she saw the red drops fall to the ground. Her eyes were swimming and for some reason she saw four of her feet instead of two. That's a broken nose for sure.

Before she had time to make another sound, whether of shock or intelligible speech, the wind was knocked out of her again, this time from her ribs. She doubled over, clutching her abdomen. Her eyelids drooped, and she was fighting to stay conscious.

"Okay, okay, I'll confess," she rasped out.

Her hair was grabbed and she felt a knife imprint into her neck. Realizing that her life hung by a string, she knew her half-arsed backstory had to be good.

"This better be the truth, dollface, or that pretty face of yours won't be so pretty much longer," he threatened.

"Sheesh, I'm going." Then, she allowed the tears to leak out of her eyes, and they mixed with her blood as they streamed down her face. It wasn't so hard to force out the tears, especially since she was currently in so much pain.

"All right, all right, the Yellow Scarves employed me to spy on you guys."

"I _knew _it. But the Blue Squares caught on quick enough!" the ringleader announced triumphantly.

Aaah, so they were the Blue Scarves? Well that helped her out a bit. Realizing that she was about to make the same mistake that she had in New York, she proceeded. This time, however, her life depended on it.

"Right, right, _anyway_, their leader told me to hang around Heiwajima for protection while I find out information about y'all."

"And what have you found out?"

"Everything, pretty much," she shrugged. "I know who your leader is, I know where your meeting place is, I know where—"

"Shut up!"

She looked up in surprise at the new voice that she heard. Was it someone else from the gang? Strange, it sounded oddly familiar….

"What the hell are you doing, kid?" came the gruff voice again.

"Heiwajima!" the punks wailed, fear tingeing their voices.

Heiwajima picked up the dumpster and was heaving it onto his shoulders, ready to hurl it towards them.

"This isn't over, little girl!" the leader growled as he pressed the knife into her neck. "Your _bodyguard _is here, but you know what this means? This means war!"

The group scattered down the alley as the dumpster went hurtling after them.

Arisa leaned against the wall in relief, sinking to the ground as she clutched her bleeding nose.

"You _idiot_ girl," a deep voice said, annoyed.

She looked up from her blood-stained hands.

"What else was I supposed to do?" she said weakly. "If I didn't exaggerate, they'd think I was hiding information from them, wouldn't they? The only way to ease their suspicions is to tell them that you know everything. That way, they won't suspect that you know more than you're letting on."

Heiwajima frowned around his cigarette, pondering what she had just told him.

She waved a hand. "I know—unfortunately, I've been through this before."

The blonde man leaned down and gripped the undersides of her arms to help her stand up.

"Come on," he grunted. "We gotta get you to Shinra."

At least she wasn't crying. Shizuo had a feeling she had fabricated the entire story, including the tears. He had to admit, she was probably right. It was most likely more prudent to tell the gang the information that they wanted to hear.

Reluctantly, he picked up the girl and helped her to stand as he marched lazily toward Shinra's place. At least it wasn't so far, and the street was pretty quiet. He thought of the uncomfortable moment when Shinra would open the door to see him holding some random girl. Just the thought caused him to grit his teeth in annoyance at the string of idiocy that would most likely leave Shinra's lips.

Sure enough, as soon as the bespectacled doctor opened the door, he burst into emphatic comments.

"Shizuo! What are you doing here? And with a girl, I see! Oooh, she's quite young, isn't she?" he placed his hand to his mouth as if in thought. "Either she's someone you unwittingly injured in one of your displays of strength, or she's a secret friend of yours that was injured and you _really _don't want her to be hurt, or she's—"

"Shut up! She's just some girl I've met a few times. The type that always gets into trouble," he said sullenly.

Shinra reached up to reposition his glasses. "I see. Well, just bring her around to the spare bedroom."

He led the way into a dark corridor and into a small bedroom at the end of the hall.

"So… what happened?"

"I think she might have broken her nose," Shizuo responded dully, becoming uncomfortable. He buried his hands in his pockets.

Shinra looked at him sternly. "I don't suppose you had anything to do with it, Shizuo."

"Actually, no, no I did not," he replied.

"Very well. She's in good hands now—she should be good as new in a couple hours. Now…if only I could find my medical supplies kit!"

* * *

><p>Arisa groaned and shot up before clutching her nose, then her chest. Her vision seemed to go black for several moments. The pain was incredible, and she stared up at the ceiling, waiting for it to subside just a bit.<p>

"How are you feeling?" an unfamiliar voice asked from her left. Her head snapped to the source and she caught sight of a man wearing a long white laboratory coat, smiling tiredly at her. He was rubbing his spectacles against the sleeve of his coat, apparently cleaning off the lenses. Yawning, he rubbed his eyes before replacing the glasses.

Arisa swung her legs over the side of the bed. What time was it? Uncle Hideki was going to _kill_ her.

"Fine, thanks. I need to get home to my uncle before…" she trailed off when she caught sight of _him_.

"What the hell is that asshole doing here?" she barked suddenly, narrowing her eyes as she watched Orihara standing in the doorway, his arms crossed as he smirked in on the scene.

It was then that a new wave of pain decided to wash over her and she plopped back down on the pillows, glaring at the ceiling.

"How do you two know each other?" she saw the doctor mouthing to Orihara out of the corner of her eye. Orihara ignored the question and took several long strides into the room, the smirk still firmly in position on his perfect features. If only his face could reveal the warped mind that lay behind it, Arisa thought idly. She watched him draw nearer and looked up at him. She shuddered as he extended an arm and smoothed her hair behind her ear.

"Orihara…" she rasped, struggling to keep her eyes open as he continued to caress her hair. "What… what do you think you're doing to me?"

He chuckled, obviously pleased with how he was affecting her.

"Er—I'll just go get you something to eat…" the doctor said uncomfortably.

"No!" she exploded, sitting back up suddenly. It was too late. He had already gone. She stared at the doorway, unwilling to turn and come face to face with Orihara.

"I heard you got into a little _melee_ with some members of the Blue Squares," Orihara told her. "How _interesting_."

She stared at him and reached up to hold her nose. It still felt quite swollen and it hurt to touch. Making a scratching sound in her throat, she responded, "Of course, you would find it interesting. Not tragic or unfortunate, oh _no, never_. Now, make like a tree and _leave._"

Arisa was annoyed to hear his low laughter. She sighed; she supposed she was quite accustomed to it by now.

"Tell me, Risa-chan, what do you suppose happens when one dies?" he asked suddenly.

Arisa mouth dropped open at the apparent _randomness_ of his question. Her eyes narrowed in annoyance and she clenched her fists.

"What the hell," she stated.

"_Weeelll?_" he drew out the syllable and leaned against the bedpost as he looked at her, arms crossed in a complacent fashion.

"I don't understand what your question is, Orihara," she declared bluntly. "Now _get out!_"

"Negative," he replied, glancing distractedly down at his phone.

"You didn't answer my question!"

Orihara looked up intently at her. "I don't remember you asking me a question. However, I do recall that I asked you one. What do you suppose will happen when you die?

She scoffed. "When _I _die?"

Rolling her eyes, she missed the glitter of amusement that momentarily sparked in his unsettling eyes.

"Do you suppose you are unable to die, Risa-chan?" he asked silkily.

She cracked up at the idiocy of the entire situation. She was sitting in an obviously unlicensed doctor's home, wrapped up in bandages whilst sitting on a bed, and holding a mad conversation with a psychopath who was blatantly stalking her. Oh yeah, and did she mention said psychopath had the beauty a guardian angel? She shuddered at the thought that his looks and contagious personality were the only obstacles that kept her from placing a restraining order on him.

"Of course not. I'm simply _saying_, when _you _die, you can find out and let me know! Let's experiment, shall we?" she proposed.

In the blink of an eye, he had moved from leaning against the bedstead to her side. He leaned in close, and breathed, "_Cheeky_."

Straightening up, he addressed her proposition. "Then, you are implying that you believe in an afterlife?"

Arisa paused. What was he getting at?

"Uh. Did I say that?"

He crossed his arms, a triumphant smirk in place once again. "You implied it, yes, Risa-chan. Obviously, when you—or I, as you said—die, we will find out because we still _exist_. That is the only way to discover the answer."

Arisa frowned. "Okay, yeah, that makes sense—"

"_However,_ I believe you are wrong. One will never find out if there is an afterlife or not because one will simply cease to exist upon termination," he responded.

"But now we're just discussing beliefs here," she complained, her irritation returning in a fresh wave.

"You could say that. And yet… how deliciously _interesting_ your response was," he crooned.

Arisa furrowed her eyebrows. "I assume you've just garnered more information to use against me?" she questioned dully.

He ignored her question and started talking on his phone. He flicked up his pointer finger, indicating he would only be a minute.

She settled down, glowering at him all the while. As she spoke, her expression softened as she concentrated on the movement of his lips, the soothing sound of his voice. His voice was—she frowned and sat up, wincing when a wave of fresh pain crashed in her chest.

"Yes… I'm in Shinjuku….What?...I've been here since next Thursday…." He started laughing at the obvious puzzlement on the other end of the line. "Come back again tomorrow, dear."

He snapped his phone shut on what sounded like a furious woman.

He sighed. "See what trouble you put me through, Risa-chan?"

Arisa stood up hit him across the arm as hard as possible.

"Ow," he said mournfully, looking down at his limb. "That's going to bruise."

"Whatever inconvenience you're experiencing is attributed to your _own _faults," she told him. "Well, like it or not, Orihara, you've officially _pissed _me off. Yes, I will work for you to pay off my debt, but once that's over, you will _never _see me again. And as for whatever you're planning? If you use me for one of your sick, twisted plans, I _will _get back at you with my own."

He immediately sprung forward and wrapped his arms around her in a breathless embrace. She stiffened as his arms tightened around her midsection as he breathed in the scent of her hair. Speechless, Arisa couldn't even think. Her brain had completely blanked as her nostrils were filled with spearmint and her body responded to the vibrations coming from Orihara's chest.

He murmured in her ear, "Yes, Risa-chan, you _are _my queen. I accept your challenge. I just hope you're up for it!" he declared gaily before moving away. He was sitting on the bed with her now, an arm still placed around her waist.

She squirmed out of his grip and tried to straighten her disheveled hair.

"So _that's _what the chess board in your apartment is for?" she demanded, frowning at him.

His smirk faltered, before returning in full force. "I should have known you were sharp enough to connect it. A small mistake on my part, but easily remedied."

"I refuse to play your game, Orihara. I don't want to be implicated in whatever you're plotting," she told him, leaning forward for emphasis and poking him in the chest.

"Oh, but you already _are, _darling. There's really no way to escape. Once you're trapped, there's no way out," he told her, as if he was discussing the weather.

Arisa sighed. "Sometimes, I really don't know if you're kidding or serious."

He leaned back, holding up his arms in a "who knows?" gesture. "Life is a game, after all!" he said lightly.

"The funny thing is, _Orihara, _I don't take it to the extremes as you do. I don't put other lives in danger while implementing my outlook."

"That's where _you _are wrong, Risa darling," he smiled, poking her nose. "Do you _know _just how many people's lives you've ruined during your trolling escapades?"

Arisa narrowed her eyes. She couldn't believe he was going this far.

"I have _never _caused someone to kill themselves or… encouraged it either."

He regarded her coolly. "Always remember, acceptance is the key to progress. When you accept that you _enjoy_ affecting others as you do, then everything becomes much easier! You're only in denial right now. What happened to the Risa who lived in New York only a few months ago?"

She frowned and moved away. "Stop trying to annoy me. I'm nowhere near as awful as you."

He moved closer to her. "Except there's a seven year age gap between us, isn't there? When I was your age, I wasn't nearly as twisted as you are already!"

"So it accelerated as you grew older?" she deadpanned. This jerk was ludicrous. He had no idea what the hell he was touting.

He burst into laughter at her none-too-subtle suggestion concerning his moral code.

"You're so insensitive, Orihara. Can't you ever empathize with someone, especially when they're hurt? You're supposed to be human," she bristled.

His smirk vanished. "You want me to be human?"

Arisa glared at him. "What _are _you? A vampire? I mean—it _would _make sense. You have red eyes, plus you're deathly pale, and you have superhuman parkour skills. How can I never have noticed it? Heiwajima-san's the vampire-hunter—" by now, she was just being completely sarcastic.

"A _vampire_, hm? Interesting… I've never been told that before. If I'm a vampire, as you say, then that would mean I can do this—"

Before she had a chance to react, Orihara had grabbed her by the waist and drawn her closer to him, dipping his head to her neck and sinking his teeth into her collarbone.

Arisa gasped. "Please, Orihara… stop." She gripped his black hair and tried to pull away, but his clasp was too strong.

"You're not getting away with associating with Shizu-chan, dear," he murmured, crushing her to his chest. She squirmed in his arms as he trailed his tongue up to her ear and bit the sensitive skin just beneath it. The most confusing—and gross—part was that she couldn't tell if this was pain or pleasure.

"Orihara…" she dug her nails into his shoulders, in a reluctant attempt to escape. The tingling sensation in her stomach augmented when he ran his tongue once more over her collarbone before drawing away.

Tears of confusion, pain, and pleasure were leaking again from her eyes, and she couldn't seem to remove her hands from around him, not sure if she wanted to wring his neck or draw him closer again. He stared down at her, a small smirk playing on his features once more. He licked his lips and his lust-filled eyes roamed down to where he had left his marks on her neck.

"How's that for a vampire, Risa-chan?" he asked.

"Why'd you do it?" she asked softly, closing her eyes as he started pinching her cheeks. He froze unexpectedly.

There was a pause before he replied, "I do what I want, and I want whatever I do."

She slapped his hands away from her face. "Yeah, because that totally answered my question," she commented acerbically.

Orihara burst into laughter. "You're so cute when you're annoyed, Risa-chan."

Then, he swooped down and planted a wet kiss on her cheek.

"Geez, could you quit doing that?" she demanded, placing a hand to where his lips had touched and making a display of rubbing it away.

"At the next blue moon, eh, Risa-chan?" he laughed before bounding from the room.

She stared after him, slightly surprised. How did he know about that incident with Walker and Erika? It wasn't as if people _often _talked about blue moons.

Her expression darkened. "One day, Orihara… I _will_ have revenge…_Ow,_" she rubbed the red spots on her neck. Unfortunately, it still tingled from when his lips had trailed across it. "Stupid vampire."

* * *

><p><em>Everything <em>was going according to plan! Izaya celebrated his triumph as he dove into his favorite swivel chair. He extended his arms high above his head and stretched, arching his back like a feline. Yes, Risa-chan was far better than he could ever hope for! She had only been in Tokyo for less than a month, and yet she had already created the tremors of a new gang war. It was only a matter of time before the entire city felt the apocalypse that was to come. And he—yes, he, Izaya Orihara—would be the instigator of the entire event!

Of course, it had been him. He had been the one who informed the Blue Squares about Risa-chan. _He_ had told them she was spying on them for the Yellow Scarves. _He _had told them that Shizu-chan was implicated in the Dollars.

Luckily, all had gone as he had hoped. He never meant for Risa-chan to get _too_ hurt; needless to say, if things had gotten out of hand, he would have thought of something to rescue her. Fortunately, everything had gone swimmingly, and Risa-chan had escaped with barely a scratch! He had to admit—he hadn't expected her to fabricate an absolute truth. He was hoping, at the most, for her to _hint_ that she knew several things about the Blue Squares, not flat out confess to knowing everything. Of course, it had, unfortunately, led to her injuries, but it was a small sacrifice to pay for what they both earned out of the situation.

"Again, she goes above and beyond any of my expectations. Aah, Risa-chan… you wonderful, wonderful human," he sighed to himself as he logged into his computer. The smirk on his lips grew as he remembered her discomfort when he had displayed his… _affections_ for her. He only hoped his marks would last for quite some time! Knowing her, she would most likely try to cover them up. He tried to imagine what she would say when people asked her why she was wearing a scarf in thirty-five degree Celsius weather. He could not contain his stream of laughter as he imagined her stuttering something along the lines of, "_I just had a PET scan and was injected with radioactive isotopes to test for Alzheimer's disease" _or _"I suffer from thyroid iodine deficiency_."

Were there any glitches? He hadn't thought of any yet—besides the omnipresent possibility of Risa-chan figuring everything out. He couldn't put that past her. Or perhaps the Blue Squares would see her with him? He shuddered at the prospect—it had already nearly happened a few nights ago at the sushi restaurant. No, that could never happen again.

He glanced at the dullahan's head he had just retrieved from its hiding place. Leaning his head against the glass, he murmured, "Very soon, dear."

He found it odd that he couldn't seem to focus on Valhalla. Perhaps he really _did _believe in an afterlife. However, rather than thinking about the head that he currently cradled in his arms, he found his thoughts returning to the girl with candy-stained lips. It really _was _a shame she was just so _young_—not yet seventeen. He exhaled a contented sigh and put his arms behind his head as he read the reports on his computer screen, attempting to distract himself from his thoughts.

* * *

><p>Oooh Izaya's really done it now!<p>

I'm not too happy with the chapter... it's just... eh. I don't think I put much effort into the gang confrontation, and I may need to revise it. Another thing-there wasn't much humour in this chapter. Which is quite unlike me :( It must be the stress from APs and SATs and other college-related activities.

Anyway, review darlings!

Vixx loves this story: haha I'm glad it made you laugh. I'm so glad you like their interactions, and I hope I continue to interest you! Oh my goodness, Izaya is IMPOSSIBLE to write. Ughhh darn you Orihara for being so complex! Hope you like this one as well!

superstrawberryL: Pahahaha Izaya is a bit like the Grinch. But he's OUR grinch ;)


	7. Chapter 7

In life, it is sometimes necessary to accept fate before it consumes the unwilling soul. Reluctant as one may be to accept it, it is easier to fall limp in the cruel grasp of fate than to struggle and fatigue oneself in the attempt to escape. Acceptance is the key to progress, just as he said. Only then can one truly proceed.

Arisa grimaced as she leaned in close to the mirror the following morning, gingerly fingering the red and blue marks on her neck and under her ear. As she grazed her pale fingers across the bruises, she involuntarily shuddered and bit her lip as she recalled the feel of his cool lips on her neck. She closed her eyes for several moments before she shook her head and snatched up the concealer from the bureau. She certainly did not want anyone to see where Orihara had marked his territory—especially Kida or Mikado. After blending the makeup with her ivory skin tone, she grabbed a scarf for good measure. If the concealer rubbed off, she'd simply tell people she had just had a PET scan and was injected with radioactive isotopes to test for Alzheimer's or cancer or something like that. Yeah. That would throw them off.

Her uncle had been extremely concerned when she came home with a broken nose the night before. He had almost called the police and sent her to the hospital, but luckily, he had believed her fabrication that she had slipped on the wet floor at work.

"Morning, occhan," she yawned as she entered the kitchen, wincing as her chest panged with pain. She clutched her stomach to keep herself from crying out.

Her uncle's eyes were glued stubbornly to the newspaper as he sipped from his mug of rose tea. When he heard her, he became distracted and set down the journal. Putting on his glasses, he got a good look at her.

"How's the job going, Arisa-chan? Is your boss paying you fairly?" he asked.

She frowned. "Yes, yes, he is. Janitor-san is very accommodating," she told him.

When her uncle had found out she was working, he had immediately thought it was a great idea. Perhaps, it would reform her prodigal ways and she would be returning to America in no time.

"Is everything all right at school?"

"Marvelous!" she replied, and he thought he could detect a hint of sarcasm; however, he couldn't be too sure.

He watched with disapproval as she casually unwrapped one of those sugar sticks and popped it into her mouth.

"Arisa-chan, you know how I feel about that. I threw out the coffee to accommodate you and switched to drinking tea—but you only eat candy," Hideki admonished her.

She froze, the lollipop still lodged in her mouth. Slowly, she pulled it out and put it back in the wrapper, throwing it into her backpack.

"You're right, sorry ojisan," she apologized.

He nodded toward her. "Are you heading out now?"

"Yes—I don't think I'll be home until around five, though. Duty calls!" she said brightly.

"Of course. Perfect, actually. I won't be back from work until around nine. I have a patient that needs a root canal—terrible operation. You better watch out, Arisa-chan," he said, half-jokingly whilst nodding toward the candy she had in her backpack.

She rolled her eyes. "I'll keep an eye on it. Catcha later, doc," she called before bouncing out the door.

Hideki half-smiled before returning to his breakfast. Then, he made a start and looked behind him in confusion. Why was she wearing a scarf in 35̊ C weather?

* * *

><p>Arisa slammed the door behind her and breathed a sigh of relief. Adjusting her disturbingly vibrant orange and pink scarf, she marched determinedly down the street toward Raira. She pulled the forbidden candy out of her bag and chomped down on it. Keeping an eye out for predators from the Blue Squares, she spied the familiar blond head of Kida ahead of her, with Mikado at his side.<p>

"Hey babe!" Kida exclaimed soon as he caught sight of her. He took one glance at her scarf and burst into laughter. Mikado, by his side, made his usual polite bow, but Arisa thought she discerned a slight smile of amusement on his face.

She sneered at Kida. "What are you laughing at?"

He continued to howl with laughter. Arisa looked ahead, frowning.

"Your scarf!" he bawled.

"Does that mean I can laugh at your hair? They fall under the same category, in case you haven't noticed," she said seriously.

Mikado laughed at that, but Kida shut up.

"You're cruel, Risa," he said slowly. Then, his entire expression changed. "I _like _it. You so totally want me! You're just playing hard to get!"

Arisa winked at him. "You got me. Hey, Mikado, do you think we can ditch Kida and leave him for the Blue Squares?" she joked.

Mikado laughed with her, but Kida momentarily froze up. If she hadn't been watching, she would have missed it, because a split second later he was laughing the loudest of all. Interesting…. She wondered just what Kida was up to—

She felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. Pulling it out, her heart jumped as she saw who it was from.

**Kat**_sumi Kyoto: I just found out my boyfriend cheated on me with my best friend. I understand you're busy with your own problems, Takumi, but I'm so lost without you talking to me._

Arisa surreptitiously glanced at her laughing companions before she ducked into a pharmacy to her left. She knelt down in one of the aisles and hit reply, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline as she typed her response:

_Oh no! What happened, Katsumi? I'll always find time for you. That's what friends are for, right?_

She bit her lips before smirking and hitting the send button. If she could get this girl to agree to meet her for suicide—then she could prove to Orihara that she never ruined anyone's life. She simply helped them!

"_Are you up to something, darling_?" a familiar, seductive voice whispered into her ear. It immediately raised goosebumps on her neck, and she cringed before clutching her injured chest.

Her honey eyes widened as she took in the sight behind her. He had snuck up on her and was currently crouched down, a sadistic smile imprinted on his face.

"Izay—_Orihara_!" she gasped, inwardly cringing when she almost referred to him by his first name. The seemingly permanent curl of his lips grew as he watched her.

"That's me! But you knew that, didn't you?" he teased.

She scowled at him. "Saying your name gives me no pleasure at all."

He leaned closer. "Are you sure? There are other positions where saying my name _would _give you pleasure. Would you like to experiment?" he asked lecherously, reaching up to pull down her ridiculous scarf, an amused glint shining in his eyes.

He shamelessly inspected the marks he had made, ignoring Arisa's shocked spluttering. She smacked his hand away in indignation, but he had already pulled the scarf from her neck. He turned away as he chuckled at her outrage. Her outrage was cute in a totally non-pedophile way.

"You lewd abomination!" she whispered at him, face red with mortification. "What is wrong with you?"

"I believe it was _you_ who had diagnosed me, a couple months back, wasn't it?" he retorted.

"I think I should add delusional to that list," she bantered.

It pained her to admit it, but her conversations with Izaya were exhilarating. Every answer he made was a challenge, a _test_, per se. And in order to pass, she had to surprise him. It was a most confusing game, because she was not sure if she wanted to win or lose.

Glee filled his eyes as he watched her. "How goes your grand plan to become a psychiatrist? New patient you have there?" he asked, gesturing toward her vibrating phone.

She sniffed and turned her nose up as she looked away. "It goes."

A wicked grin appeared on the informant's face as he absorbed her vague, yet entirely satisfying, answer.

Arisa decided to change the subject. "How goes your game of Loser's Checkers? Find any new takers? What about new personalities to play with?"

Orihara burst into a bout of laughter, and she couldn't help but feel a small smirk pulling at the edge of her lips before she suppressed it and looked away.

"You're my favourite of all, Risa-chan," he sighed contentedly.

"That's gratifying to know."

"I love humans."

"Hm. Never would have guessed."

"I love a few more than others."

"Oh?"

What the hell was he getting at? She scowled at him as he tugged on her hair. Because of him, she couldn't respond to Katsumi, and she would probably be late for school. She probably should have remained with Kida and Mikado and opted to reply to Katsumi during lunch. Dammit. She glanced down at her phone, itching to read the message and reply.

Izaya was still running his fingers through her hair. She finally pressed the open button to the text message, figuring that Izaya had no right to judge her when he was ten times worse. Besides, she was doing it to help Katsumi.

_Well, we were having just a get together at my best friend's house, and I went to the kitchen to grab the candy bowl. When I got back—_

Arisa felt Orihara's palm on her waist, kneading his fingers into her skin. She shot out her hand and grabbed onto it.

"_What do you think you're doing, you pervert!_" she hissed loudly, annoyed. She dropped her phone into her skirt pocket.

He merely smirked down at her, drawing her closer. He wrapped both of his arms around her in a tender embrace. Arisa froze in his arms, debating between tearing herself away or enjoying the warmth of his hug. Iza—Orihara tilted her head up and ran his fingers along her neck where he had kissed her. He pushed down on the tender spots, and she cringed.

"Hmmm," he hummed, burying his face into her scented hair. He smiled in triumph as he felt her reluctant arms wind around his waist, reciprocating the embrace for about two seconds before she pulled herself away. He had begun to crack her.

She knew it. Shuddering in disgust at her momentary weakness, Arisa glared at him.

"Before I forget, don't forget to pick up some more coffee from Starbucks today. I also need you to go to the market and get the stuff on the list on the counter," he told her nonchalantly.

"Hang on!" she interrupted. "Won't you be home anyway?"

He looked offended. "I have clients to attend to. In case you didn't know, I work very hard at my job."

Arisa rolled her eyes.

"Don't worry, dear. You can stay for dinner."

"Thanks, but no thanks. I have friends," she retorted.

He smirked down at her. "Maybe you don't understand. When I say 'you _can,' _I mean you _will_."

She flared up at him. "You can't tell me what to do!"

He patted her cheek. "Oh yes I can!" he sang. "Now get off to school before you're late, dear!" He looked at the time on his phone. "Goodness, look at the time! You're dreadfully tardy, Risa-chan."

She reached out in an attempt to strangle the monster, but he grabbed her arms. Locked in a desperate struggle (the sociopath was _laughing again_), the pair violently wrestled for several moments. She attempted to twist his arms behind his back in order to incapacitate him, but he was too quick, and obviously quite advanced in judo—much more than she in aikido, anyway. She winced when she felt the unmistakable point of his switchblade hovering over her hip bone. She closed her eyes and slumped in defeat.

"You'd be fun on a date," he told her playfully, digging the blade in even more.

"In your dreams, pervert!" she shot back, regretting it as he began to carve circles into her back. Just a bit more pressure and her skin would be sliced open, spurting blood all over the floor.

"Be careful, now, Risa-chan. We wouldn't want you to get hurt, now would we?" he cooed.

She shook her head, inhaling a shuddering breath as she tried to relax.

"That's better," he breathed, putting away the switchblade and smoothing his hands down her back and to her waist.

"Let me go, Izaya," she said through gritted teeth, mentally shooting herself for saying his name again. She clutched the front of his black shirt in her fist, trying to restrain herself from lashing out again.

"Hmm, I like the sound of my name when you say it," he murmured, licking his lips. "Don't forget—my offer is still open!" He kissed her cheek before he disappeared. Dazed, she glared at the empty spot that he had just vacated. He had taken her scarf. She made a dash to the front of the door and looked out the window, where she thought she could just make out the fading form of the slippery informant. She made a low growl, attracting startled glances of several customers, and plodded out of the shop.

"_There _you are, Arisa!" Mikado's voice exclaimed right beside her ear.

She jumped and whirled around to look at who was accosting her.

Kida had his arms behind his head as he turned to face her. "Well well well, how did such a cute chick disappear right under my nose?"

Arisa stared at him. "Last time I checked, you weren't the most observant person."

He put on a hurt expression, his hand flexing over his heart as he made a dramatic spectacle of flailing his arms about. "Alas, the fair maiden wounds me! I, her faithful knight in shining armour, who serenades her outsimhmmmmh!"

Arisa had promptly stuffed her raspberry lollypop into his mouth.

"That's enough serenading for today!" she retorted.

"Say, Arisa-san, what happened to your neck?" Mikado asked, as innocent as can be.

Arisa froze. Her eyes widened, and she clutched at the offending bruises on her neck.

"I—I have iodine deficiency and suffer from goiter," she stuttered, mentally kicking herself. Iodine deficiency? Goiter? _Really?_

They were looking at her like she was mental. "Huh?" Kida drawled, voicing their thoughts.

"You know what? It's that time of the month, and girls have a deficiency in iodine at that time. I just have a more severe case!" she pressed on, hoping Mikado wasn't smart enough to realize that iron deficiency correlated with "that time of the month." Of course, Kida wouldn't.

"Hang on… I thought that was _iron _deficiency!" Kida exclaimed. "You silly, silly girl!"

Arisa sweat-dropped. This kid was smarter than he let on, that was for sure.

Placing his arms behind his head as if he were relaxing in an arm chair, he continued, "But yeah, I guess it makes sense—I mean iron does have something to do with carrying oxygen in hemoglobin in the blood, so… what?"

Arisa and Mikado stared at him like he had lost his mind. But the fact of the matter was—they were staring at him because he actually had _mind_ hidden beneath a barrage of crap and corny pick-up lines.

"If you tried to use your brain to pick up chicks, I bet you'd have them lining down the block…." Arisa said slowly.

Mikado nodded seriously.

Kida raised an eyebrow.

"I always _knew _chicks couldn't resist a man's intelligence. As the saying goes, mind over matter, right?" he mused, the cocky attitude returning.

"Totally," Arisa replied, patting him on the shoulder.

She hit _send_ on her phone's touch screen keyboard.

* * *

><p><strong>Yeah so I get that this chapter is so short, and I've been MIA for what, 4 months? But at least it's something, just to see if there are still people out there interested! Also, would you all prefer shorter chapters that come once every week or two, or one really long chapter every month? Let me know! Thanks for reading, and tell me what you think! :) And what's up with this new format? I'M BEING TROLLED, HERE.<strong>


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